


Asking Too Much

by lbc



Category: The Professionals
Genre: M/M, slash relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-09
Updated: 2013-10-09
Packaged: 2017-12-28 22:59:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 37,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/997919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lbc/pseuds/lbc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doyle asks Bodie a question which he does not receive very well.  Their entire partnership is threatened due to the tension which arises.  Then two men come into their lives who push Bodie and Doyle to see themselves in a different light.</p>
<p>I have updated the story to the year,2005.  The lads are still in their 30's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Due to the fact that I couldn't figure out how to get the system to recognize chapters which were not numbered (prologue and epilogue), there are 12 total chapters even though the story indicates the divisions as prologue, chapters 1 - 10, and then an epilogue. Sorry, hope this doesn't confuse anyone.

Title: Asking Too Much  
Author: lbc

Prologue: December 22, 2005

A small bit of daylight was sneaking through the partially opened curtain. Normally, Bodie made sure that the curtains were shut tighter than a fortress, but last night, the ex-merc had been in a hurry so that a shadow began to play across the white ceiling in the flat.

Ray Doyle lay supine staring at the beginnings of light in the bedroom . . . his bedroom. Yesterday had been a very bad day . . . a very bad day, and it was not unusual for Doyle’s famed guilt to keep him awake, but Bodie had needed sex so badly after yesterday’s fiasco that they had barely been able to race into Doyle’s flat before Bodie had torn off his clothing, and they had had sex. Even in his need for Doyle’s body, the ex-merc had tried not to hurt his partner, but Doyle knew that Bodie would have taken anybody at that moment; perhaps that is what bothered him so much this time.

The day before had started out great. December 21, 2005, was to be a unique day in Britain. The Civil Partnership Act had come into force so CI5 and most government security agencies had been put on the alert for possible trouble, but it had seemed to go very well. Doyle had heard that Elton John and his partner had gone through the ceremony at the Windsor Guildhall. How was that for big time names becoming involved in this history-making event?

Of course, it wasn’t marriage, but it did provide for many rights that other married couples were entitled to. Married couples . . . that phrase had been playing over and over in Doyle’s mind since he had heard about the Act. He and Bodie had been sleeping together . . . truthfully it was more like having sex together these past years, and now Doyle had begun to think about the permanency of their relationship. Unfortunately, yesterday’s actions threw his thoughts totally out of kilter. 

Was it too much to ask Bodie to bring some clothes over to the flat and stay here in the morning, instead of rushing to his flat to get dressed? Normally, Bodie’s special alarm clock (his body) would be waking anytime now to get up and run the three minute mile to get to his flat so he could do his ablutions, etc. and be ready to be picked up by Doyle less than an hour later. Since Bodie was on temporary suspension, Doyle wondered if this would be the day that Bodie would stay and act like a normal human being? It was true that Doyle still had to report, but was it asking too much for the ex-merc to stop acting like this was a series of one night stands and show more commitment to their relationship?

Of course, yesterday had been the kind of day that no human being should have to endure. A child had been held hostage by two would-be bank robbers. Bodie had decided to visit his bank at the wrong time and ran full force into two men running out of the bank, holding a screaming, writhing child in their arms. Acting on instinct, Bodie had dealt with the crisis. The two robbers were dead or in custody, and the child . . . the child was in hospital possibly paralyzed due to a bullet near his spine. It had not been determined who had shot the child so Bodie was on suspension and ballistics was trying to determine whose bullet had hit the child . . . as if it made a difference to a six year old who might never walk again.

Bodie had spent hours and hours with Cowley and the local police explaining what had happened. When he had finally left CI5, he had attempted to rush from the building, but Doyle was waiting there for him. In silence they had driven to Doyle’s flat. The tension was so great in the car that not one word was spoken. As soon as they entered the foyer, Bodie had grabbed Doyle and carried him to the bedroom. Doyle said nothing and allowed the stricken man to do what he needed to do. It was not the romantic lovemaking of storybook fame, but it was what Bodie had needed.

Bodie was a wonderful lover, often gentle and undemanding, but he often seemed to fail to notice what Doyle had done for him as well. This night, however, Bodie needed more and though Bodie’s actions weren’t tender, they weren’t harsh either. After he took what he wanted, however, Bodie turned his back on Doyle and seemed to go to sleep without further thought to the needs or comfort of his partner.

Doyle had laid there much of the night thinking about their relationship. Bodie did not like to kiss or do much cuddling after their sex, but he had never treated Doyle quite like this. Doyle sighed, wondering what a civil partnership would be like between him and Bodie. Bodie was not big into commitment. In fact, after several years as Bodie’s partner, Doyle had begun to wonder if the time had come for Bodie to want to move on. He had never stayed very long in any of his other jobs, and he had been with CI5 for more than six years. Bodie was very loyal to Cowley, but that allegiance could be growing thin after some of the assignments that Cowley had given them.

Would Bodie even be willing to stand up in front of a group of people and say the words that would make the two of them partners in more than just work? Doyle knew that Bodie was a very private man; it had certainly taken him a long time to develop the relationship that he now had with the ex-soldier, who trusted no one and suspected everyone. Was it asking too much for Bodie to declare himself willing to tell Doyle before the world (or at least a few people) what Doyle meant to him?

Suddenly, Doyle sat up in bed, a cold epiphany hitting him in the face. Maybe . . . maybe that was the whole problem . . . maybe Doyle didn’t mean that much to Bodie!!! Maybe the only thing that Doyle meant was the weapon that guarded his back and a body that threw the troubled man into exhaustion. As long as Doyle was there as a work partner to protect him and share a bed to feed his sexual needs, that was all that Bodie expected from Ray Doyle.

Well, for Ray Doyle that wasn’t enough . . . not anymore. It was about time that Doyle found out exactly what was his place in the ex-merc’s life before it was too late. Doyle enjoyed their sex as much as Bodie, but after last night’s treatment, Doyle’s chronic insecurity where Bodie was concerned, flared to an all time high. All the talk about civil partnerships made him wonder about their future. Ordinary individuals and well-known people were coming forward to acknowledge their feelings for each other . . . their need for legally acknowledged partnerships. Of course, Bodie and he could never do that while working for CI5, but would it be so wrong for Bodie and he to share some homemade commitments that would tell each other how important they had become to each other? Neither man would expect Cowley or the government to condone two working agents entering into a civil partnership; Doyle knew that, but what was wrong with asking Bodie to . . . was it asking too much . . . .?

Bodie had been lying quietly in bed not yet fully awake. His internal alarm had told him to wake when the daylight began to filter into the room, but his subconscious mind had also told him that something was wrong. Several things finally came to mind, including the fact that he had been suspended and had no real need to get up this early, but he had got up early much of his working life and it was impossible to alter that aspect of his early morning. Then, two other thoughts came suddenly to mind. Both of them shook him to his very core, but he had had long years of practice in avoiding any demonstration of emotion or reaction when he did not want to. The first was the thought of the wounded child in hospital who might have to endure paralysis that his bullet had possibly inflicted. That that child might be paralyzed struck deeply at Bodie’s inner feelings of remorse, but he had seen many dead children in his past as a soldier and mercenary so he was prepared to put that thought at the back of his mind, for the moment. It was the other thought that truly revolted his mind and his stomach: the way he had treated Doyle last night in bed.

His relationship with Doyle had certainly had its ups and downs because, as Bodie recognized completely, they were as different as chalk and cheese, but they certainly shared the trait of being stubborn. When Bodie had found the bloodied body of his best friend lying prone in his living room, Bodie’s world had turned upside down. He had been so upset that he had even forgot his R/T and had to waste more time rushing downstairs to get it before he could send out the “agent down” alarm. Bodie had never forgiven himself for that or his demand from the possibly dying Doyle about who had shot him.

What Bodie really wanted to do was take the slender body in his arms and hold him and tell his partner of more than five years not to die and how important Doyle was to him, but it had come out as a demanding tone of revenge that Doyle had never said anything about. The whole thing had been a fiasco when Cowley had demanded that Bodie return to Doyle’s flat to look around and see what he could notice as clues. All Bodie had really wanted to do was stay with his severely wounded partner and be his lifeline.

As the days wore on after the shooting, Bodie had done everything he could to support Doyle, including visiting him as often as possible. They had never really discussed the actual event itself or its impact on their lives. Strangely, Bodie had chosen to not even mention Doyle’s gesture to him that had solved the puzzle of the shooter. It was as if the devastating event had happened, but once again, as had happened so many times in his early years, the actual deed was shoved into the hazy depths of actions too painful to continue to confront on an everyday basis.

The chief result of the following six months of unmitigated hell was a growing awareness of each other and how their relationship had changed. Bodie fought to get Doyle back on the squad for Doyle’s sake. At least, that’s what Bodie told himself, but he found that the scrawny, snarky, slender ex-copper had somehow breached all of his barriers. The day that Ray Doyle returned to the A Squad, Bodie felt the triumph even more than his partner did, but as he later realized, those six months had drawn the two men into a different sort of relationship . . . a relationship that eventually led them to having sex. Bodie told himself that he was making a mistake, but he no more could have avoided the siren song of those green eyes and emaciated body than he could the call of water to a parched throat.

Their jobs had always been violent and filled with the unexpected, but one day the two men were partners and the next they were in bed together. It wasn’t an affair, Bodie kept telling himself. It was what he had been taught in the training field of Africa and the dozen other places his travels had taken him. It was sex and that was all. Doyle wanted to kiss and cuddle but so far they had avoided that due to Bodie’s insistence. Only it was getting harder to deny Doyle. It was time for Bodie to get out - - that’s what he had always done when the job became boring or too treacherous emotionally, but this time was different. Doyle kept talking about the civil partnership goings-on. It wasn’t right . . . it wasn’t natural, but Doyle wouldn’t shut up. Bodie could see the writing on the wall; he knew . . . he just knew that Doyle would be demanding more; the question was could Bodie give it?

Lying here beside Doyle, Bodie realized that was why he had treated Doyle the way he had. He wanted the naïve golli, who wore rose-coloured glasses so much of the time, to realize that that was not the way the real world was. The sex had been great, but that was all it was. He had not played THE GAME with Doyle, but he had certainly given him a modified version of some of the goings-on that Bodie had encountered while a young merc. The only thing was: Doyle hadn’t protested!

About to turn over and say something to Doyle about his regret for his behaviour, Bodie stopped when Doyle sat up quickly in the bed. Still slightly groggy from waking up, Bodie continued to lay there on his stomach as if he was still asleep for a few seconds, but then sat up and stared at the man he thought he knew so well when he heard Doyle ask into the open air of the still slightly dark bedroom, “Bodie, will you marry me?”

Bodie sat staring at Doyle, his blue eyes cold with contempt and something else. He knew . . . he just knew this would happen; he should have cut it off at the bud and made the ground rules plainer. In his emotional state, Bodie failed to see the appalled look on Doyle’s face as the ex-copper realized that he had spoken out loud and that Bodie had heard. Before Doyle could speak and explain his mistake, Bodie decided that now was the time to stop this insanity before it destroyed their partnership, not realizing that by his next words, he was doing exactly that.

“I knew it, I just knew it. I am NOT a pansy or a fag. Have I been partnered with a closet cunt all these years? You’ve been naggin’ this thing into the ground. Civil partnership, civil partnership, Elton John and the rest of the perverted, unnatural goings on that’s been running through your mind. I told you how it was goin’ be and now you want to change the game. Well, I’m not havin’ it. You and me are partners IN WORK and that’s it. We’re not going to get all f’in’ hung up with kissin’ and cuddlin’. In case you haven’t noticed it; WE’RE MEN. Once in awhile we need some release and where I’ve been that doesn’t mean searchin’ our souls or behavin’ like we’re doin’ women. I thought you understood that, but I guess I was wrong, and I want it clear that I don’t want to ever hear that again, do you hear me?

Since Bodie was almost out of air, he took a giant gulp of breath and finished dressing within a few seconds. His usually pale face was almost beet red, but his blood pressure was so high that although he noticed Doyle’s stricken face, he knew that he had to get out of the flat before he said something else that would be even worse. Grabbing his jacket, Bodie rushed towards the door and wilfully closed his ears to any noises or comments from Doyle.

Doyle continued to sit on the bed even after he heard the front door slam shut. Chastising himself for not trying to explain away his question or trying to convince Bodie that it was just a mistake that he had been dreaming or something like that, Doyle crumpled to the bed and laid there for several moments. Finally, sanity returned to his thinking. His mind began to clear and the first question that came to mind was: how dare Bodie talk to me like that? All right, I was stupid not to guard me tongue, but Bodie definitely overreacted. After all, he was the one who treated me like a one night stand. I guess . . . that’s all I am to him. Maybe it’s time that I re-think my options. If that’s what he really thinks of me, then maybe I better decide what my priorities are. Maybe Bodie really did me a favour. Obviously, I was asking too much from Bodie . . . won’t make that mistake again.

Realizing suddenly that it was getting late, Doyle got up and rushed to the shower. As the water cascaded over his body, the turmoil in Doyle’s mind seemed to work itself onto a more focused path. Towelling himself quickly, Doyle then slipped into his clothes and headed out the door munching on a piece of toast. He had heard the timeworn cliché that today was the first day of the rest of a person’s life, but that’s how Doyle felt as he entered CI5. If William Bodie didn’t need him or wasn’t interested in the things that Doyle wanted, then maybe it was time to find someone who did or at least a way of life that didn’t centre so much on that stubborn, mule-headed, selfish ex-merc, who would soon see that he made the biggest mistake of his life when he treated Ray Doyle as just someone to warm the sheets.


	2. Chapter Two

CHAPTER ONE

As soon as Doyle entered CI5 headquarters, he was told by one and all that the Controller wanted to see him immediately. As Doyle had driven to work, his mind had run over many things, including the possibility that Bodie would ask for a new partner; now it looked like that news was about to be dropped on him. I wonder what Bodie told him about his reason for wanting to break up the partnership? As soon as Doyle entered the outer office, Betty told him that he could go in so the moment of truth was soon at hand.

As usual Cowley was busy with papers on his desk, but he motioned Doyle to sit down. This was different because in the past Cowley had left Doyle or Bodie on the griddle, stewing and waiting by standing in front of the desk that still held a lot of memories for the partnership. Since Cowley immediately motioned him to a seat, Doyle had to assume that he was really in trouble.

Cowley looked up at his agent and said, “Since ballistics has not yet delivered its decision about which bullet struck the child, Bodie will be on suspension for a few more days. You and Anson will be working on the Jensen case until Bodie returns.”

What? Bodie didn’t say anything to the Cow? Maybe he’s waiting until he gets off suspension. Clearing his throat, Doyle sat perfectly still, trying to get his world to stop swaying. He had been so sure that Bodie would have been in and told Cowley that he didn’t want to work with a fag anymore.

“Did you hear me, Doyle?”

“Uh, yes sir, I was just . . . well, a bit surprised that Bodie . . . well, I hadn’t heard how the child was, and I hoped that there had been some news on that front . . . er, I mean Bodie must be anxious.”

“You haven’t spoken to him?”

“Not since last night, sir. Is . . . is there any news?”

“As a matter of fact there is. The child is actually showing movement in his lower body so the doctors are reasonably confident that there won’t be any paralysis. Since I contacted Bodie with that news earlier this morning, could you please tell me why he wouldn’t have informed you, since you two seem to be thick as thieves most of the time?”

Oh brother, why didn’t I keep my mouth shut? “Well, I just haven’t spoken to him. I was running kind of late this morning and haven’t had time to talk to him, that’s all.” Well, at least, that’s partly true. Better wind this up before I put my foot in it even more. “Well, I’ll go find Anson so he can brief me about the Jensen case.”

Doyle stood and immediately headed for the door when an abrupt, “Doyle”, stopped him in his tracks. “I did not dismiss you yet.”

Doyle turned, knowing now how the condemned felt as they left the tumbrel and walked towards Madame Guillotine. “Yes, sir.”

“What’s the matter, Doyle? You are an experienced enough agent to be able to work with anybody. I am quite certain that ballistics will clear Bodie within the next day or so, and you two can begin working together again.”

“Well, sir, it’s just that Anson smokes quite a bit, and it gets up me hooter.”

“Doyle, sit down.”

The look that George Cowley gave his agent could easily have stopped a charging rhino with a shard of ice that would have pierced even that hide. Cowley sat silently for a few seconds and then asked, “Now, what is wrong between you and Bodie?”

What was the use of prevaricating since Bodie would come in and ask for a new partner as soon as he got off suspension? This way Doyle could get his side in first. “We had a fight, sir, and Bodie’s pretty pi . . . ticked off with me. I’m not sure about the status of our partnership right now.”

“Since I make the decisions about partners around here, it is exactly the same as it was before this . . . so-called fight, but it sounds like you think that it is more than just the usual words between two hot-headed, stubborn, immature children like you two. Would you say that is true, 4.5?

“Yes sir, it is. It was mostly my fault, but I’m sure Bodie won’t want to hear from me in the near future.”

“I see. So do you want me to split you up without hearing Bodie’s side of the story?”

“I figure you’ll do whatever you want, but working with Anson for a few days might give Bodie a chance to cool down. I think we both need that time, sir.”

“Have you made any attempts to contact Bodie to try and work this out?”

“I tried to call him, and I sent him a message, but haven’t heard anything.”

Cowley ran his fingers through his ginger coloured hair as he nodded, “Very well, you will be assigned to work with Anson for the duration of Bodie’s suspension. When Bodie returns, I will speak with him, and determine his view on this situation and then I will determine what is to be done. You’re dismissed.”

“Yessir.” As Doyle got up from the chair, it was apparent that his slender body was hunched over in despair. Doyle knew this would happen, but, for some reason, Cowley had gone along with the separation much more readily than Doyle had expected. 

For several minutes after Doyle left, George Cowley stared into the contents of a folder that he had been hiding on his desk. If Ray Doyle had known what George Cowley was contemplating after perusing the file for the umpteenth time, 4.5 would have been much more concerned and confused than he already was at the moment


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER TWO

William Bodie had been twiddling his thumbs for the last two days. It was Christmas Day, and he was planning to do nothing - - not even contact Doyle although the two men had planned to spend the day together with Doyle cooking and Bodie being his usual helpful self, but that wasn’t going to happen . . . no way. Bodie had cooled down and begun to think about what had happened just two days before. He had probably overreacted, but Doyle had known how disturbed Bodie had been by the shooting, the suspension, and just things in general, and then the ex-copper had to act like a twit and ask him THAT. What else was a self-respecting man supposed to do? So he had decided to do what he always did, ignore the situation and the man himself. He had already ignored the message that Doyle had left, and had refused to answer the phone in case it might be Doyle.

The problem was that Cowley had just talked to him on the CI5 line to tell him that ballistics had finished their investigation and the bullet that had hit the child had come from Smith’s gun, not his. Apparently when the child started wrestling around, the gun had gone off and the bullet had hit the kid. The fact that this had all happened while Bodie had been shooting at Smith had just been bad timing. Now that the kid was out of danger of paralysis, Bodie was to be reinstated the next to regular duty. That was the reason for the call since Cowley wanted him to report to him at 8 00, but the Cow had not mentioned Doyle at all. In fact, Cowley had sounded slightly put out about something. Had Doyle told him what had happened?

It would be just like the guilt-ridden sod to confess everything and land them both in water up to their wazoo. After all they had been in bed together, but surely Doyle wouldn’t go into that much detail?

Bodie spent the remainder of the day cleaning up his flat and ordering takeaway. It was a far cry from what had been planned for the day, but he wasn’t going to give Doyle the satisfaction of trying to make up with him after what the big-mouth, sentimental golli had done. Bodie wasn’t sure if they were even still partners, but he sure wasn’t going to make the first move. Let Cowley tell him what was going on.

12 hours later Bodie showed up at CI5 anxious for what the day would bring. Hopefully since he was now re-instated, he would get his gun, R/T, and ID back and things would sort of return to normal, but deep in his heart, Bodie, for once, had to admit to himself that maybe that wasn’t possible anymore. The Golli had ruined all that. Bodie had just re-acted as any man would have.

Walking to Cowley’s office after taking a detour to the assignments’ board, Bodie’s nerves were even more on edge as the words: Doyle/Anson - - Jensen op played over and over in his mind. So the dumb crud had asked for a new partner. Well that was fine with him. Doyle was always asking too much of him anyway.

Betty was not in the office since she had been given an extra day of leave, but Cowley was there so Bodie knocked and went in. George Cowley sat there, looking at his recently returned agent.

“Sit down, 3.7. We need to talk.”

It took all of Bodie’s formidable willpower not to close his eyes and sigh so all he decided to say was, “Yessir.”

“What is the problem between you and Doyle?”

Bodie sat there, a thousand thoughts darting through his mind, but the most important was, What had Doyle told Cowley about what had happened? Bodie decided to be honest, up to a point, “I was over at Doyle’s flat and we had an argument. Since I was on suspension, I left and haven’t seen Doyle since.” Please don’t let him ask what we fought about.

“I see. Well that is as detailed as Doyle was about the whole thing. It is quite obvious that you and Doyle’s immaturity is showing once again. I really don’t understand why I tolerate it sometimes, but now is not the moment for me to work on relations between you two. I need you for a possible bodyguard detail. You will be working with 6.2. Here is the folder with the information about the situation. You will share it with Murphy and then go to this address tomorrow. Since this is a Member of Parliament, you and Murphy will be on your best behaviour. This man has been a personal friend of mine for a number of years, and I do not want him offended. You will also notice that there is very little information in the folder. I am going to let you find out the details from the man himself. You have an appointment scheduled for 13 00 tomorrow so be prompt. I’m expecting your detailed report as soon as you are finished there. This man’s life has been threatened, and I want your honest assessment about how best to proceed. Is that understood?

“Yessir.”

With that Bodie was dismissed. He did not turn around as he left, but if he had he would also have been amazed by the both devious and pondering look on the Controller’s face. Bodie did not hear Cowley’s quiet comment, “Aye laddie, I’m sure I’ll be getting a real debriefing from you, after you have seen Dr. Peter Balliol, MP.”

As soon as Bodie left the office, Cowley called a private number and heard a voice he knew very well. “It’s George, Peter. My man will be there at 13 00. We’ll talk after he debriefs me.”

Putting down the phone, Cowley immediately contacted Doyle by R/T. “4.5, since the Jensen surveillance can be covered by Anson very well, I will need you tomorrow to drive me. We will be going to my club and other places, so please dress appropriately and not in your . . . usual casual dress. Cowley, out.”

Putting down his communicator, Cowley removed his glasses, and poured himself a glass of single malt. Well, the show has begun; let’s just hope that this works out well because I don’t want to lose those lads or one of my best friends to a madman.

Doyle had been sitting at the bar at Cowley’s club for more than 45 minutes. Cowley had made arrangements for his agent to be served a sandwich and a “light beverage” which Doyle managed to prestidigitate into a gin and tonic, very light on the gin.

Finally, he heard Cowley’s voice and quickly got off the stool, only to run into a tall, slender man who was coming through the bar at about the same time. Doyle and the stranger promptly ran into each other, with very little injury, but some noise.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

“It was my fault, please forgive me.”

“No problem.” The stranger stared at the younger man, staring at him carefully for several seconds then he seemed to break out of his trance, shook his slightly greying hair, and said, “No, it was really my fault. I had just been at a meeting, and I have another one which I am already late for. My name is Charles Bradley, by the way, and I hope I haven’t dishevelled you or anything.”

Doyle smiled at this strangely attractive man. “Nothing that I haven’t experienced before, sir. I should have looked where I was going; thought I heard a voice I recognized.”

Both men turned as they saw the limping figure of George Cowley approaching them. Charles Bradley immediately smiled at the older man and said to Doyle, “Well, if that’s who you are looking for then you must be one of George Cowley’s agents?”

Doyle blinked several times in amazement that the handsome man had put two and two together. “As a matter of fact . . .”

By that time George Cowley had arrived and said, “Ah, I see you two have met. Charles Bradley, this is Ray Doyle who works for me, and Agent Doyle this is Charles Bradley, QC, who is one of my oldest friends and my luncheon companion today.”

The two strangers shook hands as Charles Bradley continued to stare very subtly at the CI5 agent. Cowley stared surreptitiously at both of them and then said, “Well, Doyle, we must get going. Charles, can we drop you anywhere?”

“No thanks, George. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Doyle, and I’ll be talking to you soon, George.” With that the handsome, older man practically ran out the door. 

The ever observant Doyle noted two things about this chance encounter. Bradley seemed to put special emphasis on talking to Cowley later, and that Cowley seemed to have a special twinkle in his eye towards the man who had just upset the decorum of the club by practically running out the door. Cowley and this Bradley must really be good friends. Sounds like they’ve known each other a long time. I wonder how close they really are?

Doyle’s thoughts got no further as Cowley moved forward, motioning Doyle to follow him. They spent the next few hours going from meeting to meeting, Even Doyle was exhausted after all the comings and goings that George Cowley managed to crowd into one day. By the time they returned to CI5, Doyle was ready for a break and surprisingly, Cowley told Doyle that he could go home because he would probably be very busy with the Jensen case since it seemed to be heating up again.

No sooner had Cowley dismissed Doyle than Betty notified him that he had a call from Charles Bradley. Quickly, Cowley picked up the receiver and said, “Charles, good to hear from you. What did you think?”

“He’s perfect, George. I didn’t believe it when you told me, but I think that he will do very well physically, but I do think he’s going to need some teaching . . . if you know what I mean?”

“Indeed, I do, and I will keep you in mind, but I have already made some arrangements in that area. Of course, this all depends on the target being willing to go along with this scheme.”

Charles Bradley laughed but there was a catch, almost like a sob in the laugh, “Yes, I know what you mean. He can be very stubborn, can’t he? Oh well, I’m sure your agents can convince him. What did you say their names were?”

“Bodie and Murphy. They were supposed to meet with him more than an hour or so ago, so I suppose I’ll be hearing from them soon, especially Bodie. Thanks again for the help, Charles and I’ll let you know if I need anymore of your words of wisdom in the future.”

No sooner had Cowley put down the receiver than Betty notified him that MASTER Bodie was champing at the bit to see Cowley. Cowley closed his eyes, removed his glasses, and pinched the bridge of his nose. This was not going to be easy, but it had to be done. “Tell Bodie to come in, please.”

Barely had Betty opened the door to 3.7 when he came barrelling in, which was hardly his normal demeanour when entering the Controller’s office. The tall man’s face was bright red with anger; his whole physique bristling with indignation and confrontation. Without the usual formalities, Bodie lunged forward so that his body was half over the desk as he asked in the coldest voice he had ever used to Cowley, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Cowley’s blue eyes stared back at the deeper blue eyes and with his usual calm said, “Sit down, Bodie, and I’ll tell you now.”

Bodie reacted immediately to the command level voice that Cowley used and quickly found a seat. Cowley was very good at reading Bodie. The man was seething as well as confused. Cowley knew he had to handle these next few minutes very carefully or one of his best agents would walk out of that door and never return.

“First of all, laddie, tell me what happened.”

“You know what happened. Peter Balliol came out to meet me and there was Ray Doyle. At least, I thought it was until I studied him more carefully. He’s a few years older than Doyle, not quite as slender, and certainly the hair is not the same, but Doyle could be him with a little make-up. In fact, I called him Ray and then realized my mistake. I thought I was being set up.”

“Why would you think that? After all, you’re the one who had the fight with Doyle, why would you now see him in a Member of Parliament’s office? Did he explain to you the problem?”

“Yes sir, he showed me the notes, and explained about what had happened with David West. I think he’s a bleeding heart, but when he started talking about possible corruption in government, I . . . I realized why you might want CI5 dealing with the issue.” Suddenly, Bodie remembered that Cowley had been friends with Balliol for a number of years, but he didn’t try to apologize for his words since he was still furious at the man for sending him into the abyss with so little information.

Cowley chose to say nothing about Bodie’s criticism of Balliol because there was a much more important issue at stake right now. “And you believe that there is a problem and a real threat to Mr. Balliol?”

“Yes, I do. I went over quite a bit with him, and he explained that he has been making the news lately . . . for various reasons (here Bodie dropped his eyes as if he couldn’t face Balliol’s admission of his visit to the gay club being plastered all over the papers). There’s a lot of prejudice in this country, and what with him having been involved in the West case; people have long memories for those kinds of things. Plus his hearings on corruption, seem to make him a good target for violence so I’ve left Murphy with him, and we’re going to put round the clock surveillance and protection on him. Is that what you had in mind?”

“I’m quite willing to leave it in your capable hands. Peter can be stubborn. His Scots’ background helps make him that way, so be sure that he understands and accepts each thing that you plan to do, or more than likely, he’ll get his back up and refuse to do it.” 

“Yessir, as I’ve already found out, when I suggested that he move to a safe house or not go and visit his constituency area during the break that’s coming. His major hearings aren’t planned until after the New Year so we have a bit of time, but that also gives any troublemakers some time as well.” Although Bodie wanted to add that he agreed that Balliol’s stubbornness came from his Scots’ background, he held his tongue because he was now sure after meeting the man that it was that Scots’ stubbornness that had drawn the two men together.

“Yes, I can imagine that Peter will be out in full force so that will put an extra burden on you and Murphy. If you need extra agents for various reasons, let me know. Balliol is stubborn, but he isn’t stupid so if you explain your plans carefully, I’m sure that he’ll go along. Besides I have a few other alternatives in mind, if they become necessary. Well, I’ll let you go back to Balliol. I’m sure that you and Murphy will need more time with the man before you have all the information you need.”

“Yes sir, we’ll keep in contact.”

For several minutes after Bodie left, Cowley stared into space as a thousand thoughts flew through his mind. Two major ideas finally synthesized into major questions that made Cowley pause: First, why had Bodie, who was so angry over not being made aware of Balliol’s remarkable likeness to Doyle seem to calm down so quickly? And secondly, why did Bodie NOT suggest that Doyle be brought in to act as a decoy for Balliol? Bodie was the ultimate professional - - cold, calculating, and always willing to do what was necessary to get the job done, but in this instance the battle-hardened, ex-merc, ex-soldier failed to suggest the most likely alternative to placing Peter Balliol in further jeopardy. Interesting quite interesting. Maybe the former partnership between 4.5 and 3.7 wasn’t beyond salvaging after all.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER THREE

Once again, Ray Doyle was sitting at the bar of Cowley’s club, waiting for his boss to appear. This time he had eaten very little because he was hoping he could get away early. It was just possible that Sheila would be willing to go out with him, even though it was a last minute thing. Doyle had been trying for the last few days to show his independence from Bodie’s “company” and what better way to do so than by dating a bevy of birds who always seemed to be willing to go out.

“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Doyle, are you waiting for your boss again?”

Doyle turned his head to the left to see Charles Bradley standing next to him. Boy, I really must have been lost in thought to let a civilian creep up on me like that. Breaking out one of his most charming smiles, Doyle grinned at the man and said, “Yes, I’m his number one chauffeur this week for some reason, and he likes to come here for lunch.”

Bradley grinned, a strange look of wistfulness in his eyes. “Yes, George is a hard worker, but he does know where it is more comfortable to have his meetings, I guess. It was really nice seeing you again, but I have to get going. I’ve still got hours of work, and then I’ve got a squash match about 6.00.”

No sooner had the older man said that than the bartender handed him a phone. Bradley looked faintly confused, but took the phone and listened. Finally, he replied, “But, I’ve already got the court reserved, are you sure you can’t . . . all right, all right, I’ll talk to you later.” Bradley turned towards Doyle and said, “Well, I still have all those meetings yet, but I guess I don’t have to hurry to play squash as you probably figured out my partner is going to be tied up.”

Doyle smiled; he and Bodie used to play squash quite a bit to keep fit, but they hadn’t done in months. “That’s too bad. Where do you play?” Bradley mentioned the RAC which was well known and also had very high membership rates so Doyle knew that he and Bodie had never been there. “Little bit out of my price range, CI5 doesn’t pay that kind of salary.”

“What, you mean that the Cow doesn’t provide squash benefits for all his agents?”

Doyle sat there with his mouth open, amazed at Bradley calling George Cowley, the Cow. Bradley began to smile and said, “What, did you and the other agents think that you were the only ones to call George, the Cow? I think he had already been called that for several years before we met him.”

Trying to find his Adams’ apple that he had seemed to swallow, Doyle managed to get out, “How did you meet him?”

A look of hesitation entered Bradley’s dark eyes, but he smiled and said, “Well, he was in Intelligence, and we were seconded to his unit for awhile and that’s about all I can tell you.”

“You were in Intelligence?”

“I know; it’s amazing isn’t it, but no, not really. It was really more the legal aspects of the Intelligence community. We were sort of novices, but George gave us some very quick lessons on how to survive when dealing with various areas of the military.”

“We?”

Suddenly Charles Bradley’s demeanour became very wary and hesitant, “Yes, I worked with this other fellow; we met George about the same time. Now I really have to be going.” As Bradley stood up, however, he suddenly whirled around to face Doyle once again, “Look, you don’t do squash by any chance?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. Not great at it, and I certainly haven’t been in any place like the RAC, but yes, I don’t make a fool of myself.”

“How about we meet tonight about 18 00 then at the club; you know just so that reservation doesn’t go to waste?”

“I . . . I don’t know if Cowley will be done by then; he sometimes works late hours.”

“All right, here’s what will do; we’ll exchange phone numbers and if I don’t hear from you, I’ll assume you’re going to be there.” Bradley grabbed one of his cards and promptly wrote his private number on it and handed it to Doyle, while Doyle used one of the available serviette sitting on the bar. After looking briefly at the number, Bradley nodded and said, “Great, well I’ll be going, hope to see you later.”

Doyle continued to sit at the bar for a few more minutes, waiting for Cowley. Well, you’ve done it now, you dumb crud. I wonder what Cowley will say if he hears that I’m playing squash with a friend of his. Why should he care though, except to wonder about why his friend is slumming with the likes of me? It will be nice though to have someone else as companion once in awhile, since Bodie . . . Better not think on that, miss the prejudiced crud, but I’m moving on and doing something besides watching the telly and going out with Bodie. Charles Bradley, you couldn’t have picked a better time to have a squash partner fail you.

Bodie, on the other hand, had followed Cowley’s instructions and decided to return to talk further with Peter Balliol. Before he could return to Balliol’s office, however, Murphy contacted him on the R/T and told him that he and Balliol were relocating to Balliol’s apartment so Bodie should meet them there.

Upon arriving, Bodie quickly noticed that the apartment fit the man: it was convenient, efficient, and understated. For a man who had made the news about a visit to a gay club, the apartment revealed nothing about his sexual orientation, and suddenly Bodie realized that he had been labelling the man without really knowing a great deal about him. Indeed, his prejudice was showing. After all, why should Bodie be hostile to the man, just because he looked so much like Doyle, and until a week ago, Bodie had also been sleeping with a man . . . although only when either of them had needed release? Here, Bodie stopped analyzing his thoughts because, as he told himself, that was what Doyle always did and look where it had got both of them.

Murph informed 3.7 that Balliol was in changing so the two agents could speak privately for a few minutes. Murphy said that he had been unable to get more information from Balliol after Bodie left since the man had constituency business to do. Bodie downplayed his confrontation with Cowley and basically repeated Cowley’s edict to find out more and make further plans about what to do. Cowley wanted to protect the man, but this couldn’t be an indefinite assignment since both men were too valuable to be kept off the street. Bodie’s irregular left eyebrow shot up as he mentioned that Cowley had alluded to an alternate method of protecting Balliol but had gone no further.

After a few minutes, Balliol returned to the large living area to talk further with the men. Once again, Bodie was amazed at how much the man looked like an older Ray Doyle. Bodie had tried to stop himself over the past several days from thinking about Doyle. He kept telling himself that it was time that he was moving on anyway, or that it was all Doyle’s fault since he had made it clear to Doyle that there was no commitment, but all his excuses hadn’t worked very well and seeing Doyle’s doppelganger everyday was adding insult to injury.

Peter Balliol looked incredibly handsome in his dress trousers, shirt, and green jumper that so perfectly matched his eyes. Balliol’s green eyes weren’t as beautiful as Doyle’s, but then how could they be since Doyle had the most . . . Here, Bodie deliberately stopped his thoughts from continuing. If he kept thinking about Doyle, he’d find himself rushing to Doyle’s side and begging forgiveness, and he certainly wasn’t the one who should apologise or feel guilty.

Balliol sat down with a drink in his hand, smiled, and said, “Now gentlemen, what else do you want to know?”

Do you have some black sheep in your family who crossed the Irish Sea and hooked up with an Irish lass whose family name is Doyle? That thought flitted through Bodie’s mind before he could stop it. Fortunately, Murphy said, “Sir, we have checked the notes that you have received so far and found nothing to help us. They are extremely vague. Are you aware of any enemies that you’ve made in the past several years?”

Balliol laughed; it sent a shiver down Bodie’s back since it seemed so much like Doyle’s except slightly less sensual. “What politician hasn’t, but I would say that since the gay bar incident and the David West situation, I’ve had more than my share of threatening notes, but I told you that before.”

“What about the hearings that are going to take place in the next few weeks? Is there anyone mixed up with that who might want to see you . . . well, not participate?”

Balliol thought for a moment and then shook his head as he said, “I really can’t think of anyone. As usual, I have my supporters and a lot of opposition, but investigation into possible corruption and other matters along that line always bring out the disgruntled. I would say the David West incident and the investigation of police state mentality were far more dangerous. I’m sorry that I can’t really help you.”

“All right, we’ll go from here with the following plan. I’ve talked to the Co . . . Mr. Cowley and he says that we’re to stay with you for the next two weeks. If nothing happens then we’ll all sit down and re-think the situation because . . .”

Peter Balliol’s green eyes had started to sparkle. “You don’t have to finish that statement Mr. Bodie. I can just hear THE COW now, saying that CI5 can’t afford spending too much money on a job that doesn’t seem worth it.”

Both Bodie and Murphy stared at the older man in amazement. Balliol slapped his knee, let out an uproarious laugh, and asked, “You didn’t think that you were the only ones who called George Cowley, The Cow, did you?”

Both men were still speechless so Balliol continued, “We were calling him that soon after we met him, and practically everyone in MI was doing the same, but definitely . . . definitely not to his face.” Balliol then winked at both men.

The tension in the room was broken, and it was at that moment that the two agents realized how much they liked this man and that they would do everything they could to protect his life, especially since he also wore an older Doyle’s face.

“Gentlemen, if there is anything else, we should talk about it now, then I think that you should be packing your bags. I usually spend this break time out among the constituents and then when I return, we will be very busy.”

Both agents stood up while Balliol left them to get his packing done. The plan was for Bodie to go to both agents’ flats and pack what they would need for a week’s visit to the rural areas of the UK. Within two hours they were on the road to Peter Balliol’s home area. Both agents knew that they couldn’t let down their guard while they were away from London because danger could lurk anywhere.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FOUR

Ray Doyle knew nothing about Bodie’s assignment or his temporarily leaving London so his confusion and uncertainty about the status of his partnership with Bodie was always on his mind, but it was quite obvious to him that while Bodie had not reported what had damaged their partnership, neither had he demanded another partner . . . so far. Doyle didn’t really want another partner, but the damage he had done probably would result in the loss of his best friend and mate, and he might as well accept it.

The arrival of Charles Bradley in Doyle’s life had been a lucky thing. Doyle had been missing Bodie’s companionship in so many ways, and Doyle found, to his delight, that Bradley also enjoyed many of the things that the former partnership had provided. Doyle’s arrival at the RAC was like a wonderland to him. He had been exposed to such luxury through his efforts on certain CI5 missions, but this was beyond belief.

By now, he had been Bradley’s guest a number of times at the legendary club. Their squash matches had been hard fought and well-played, and both men had enjoyed them immensely. Bradley had also demonstrated an interest in motorcycles and darts which delighted Doyle even more. Doyle had already invited Bradley to his local where a major darts’ tournament was being planned. 

While not a football fanatic like Bodie, Bradley knew a great deal about “the beautiful game” and could talk intelligently about the game as well as hold his own on cricket. These interests filled the hours that the two men were together very comfortably, but somehow Doyle always felt that Bradley was bending over backwards to do the things that Doyle enjoyed the most, and he couldn’t quite understand why a man as erudite and as well-educated as Bradley would want to be with a man who had been fostered at an early age, whose education stopped early in life, and couldn’t even make it in art school.

Nevertheless, Charles Bradley helped heal Doyle’s broken heart . . . a bit. In the weeks following Christmas, the two men saw each other frequently and that pleased Doyle immensely. Doyle found himself wondering if Bradley wanted more from him than just friendship. Surprisingly Doyle found himself accepting the idea with some anticipation and also a great deal of trepidation. He had not been with another man . . . only Bodie for a long time and that had not worked out well, but there was very little likelihood that a barrister, a QC, and a wealthy man like Bradley would want a permanent relationship with a man who was a minion of George Cowley’s. That was all right with Doyle, after his experience with Bodie, he was definitely not anxious to enter into any commitments of a sexual nature, but some nights with a warm body who might be willing to share himself as well as a few kisses and some cuddles, might go a long way to healing the hollow sensation which existed deep in his body.

Doyle continued to work with Anson, on and off during the weeks after Christmas. One day, however, he and Anson ran into Murphy at headquarters and jokingly said, “Well, the Smurph appears. I haven’t seen you in awhile.”

The tall, handsome Irishman smiled and said, “Of course, you slovenly wage earners haven’t, I’ve been on a very important assignment guarding a member of the government and treated to all the benefits that a person like myself deserves. I’m on my way now to brief Cowley about my efforts so I cannot pause to gossip with you peons.

“Peons are we? I’ll have you know that Anson and I have been doin’ some very important duties with regards to this realm. Did you have any excitement?”

At that moment, Anson piped in with, “Yeah, I’m surprised the birds within 50 miles of where you and Bodie were located, were fearin’ for their reputations.”

Suddenly, the air became tense and the silence was so heavy that it became oppressive. Murphy recovered quickest and trying to smile naturally, replied, “Nah, it was a very quiet time. The guy we were protectin’ went about his way and we just followed. I wouldn’t be surprised if Cowley didn’t cancel the protection in the near future, but I sure could use a few more weeks of that type of duty.”

Fortunately, Cowley’s secretary broke in at that moment as she told Murphy that he was wanted immediately in Cowley’s office. Doyle and Anson watched Murphy’s back as he followed Betty to the Controller’s office. Then Anson, as clueless as usual, said, “You didn’t know that Bodie was workin’ with Murphy now?”

Doyle had always figured that the moment would come when he would have to face the fact that Bodie was no longer his partner, but having it thrown in his face so bluntly shook him to the core, but he tried to recover quickly. He turned to stare at Anson for a moment, the coldness in his green eyes almost freezing Anson. It was obvious that Doyle was on the cusp of making a decision, and within seconds he queried, “Why Anson, why would I want Bodie when I have you? Now let’s forget about Bodie, shall we?” 

Murphy’s meeting with Cowley was almost finished when an emergency message came through for Cowley. “What is it, 3.7?”

“Sir, the MP and I were just walking across the street and somebody tried to deliberately run him down. I got him out of the way, but I’m taking him to hospital just to make sure. I’ll be at Royal London in less than five minutes.”

Both Cowley and Murphy were out the door immediately. The drive to hospital was quiet and tense. As usual Cowley was already making plans several steps ahead of the situation in hand, but since it now looked like Balliol’s enemy was willing to do more than just send messages, Cowley, with one request on the radio, put a plan into motion which would have far reaching consequences for several people.

Within a few minutes, both Cowley and Murphy were rushing into the A& E where they saw Bodie waiting for them. The ex-merc’s clothing seemed dishevelled and his demeanour was not as calm as was usual. Murphy’s first thought when seeing his friend was how upset Bodie seemed which was unusual for the “keep cool” agent, but then Murphy remembered who Bodie had saved . . . the man with Ray Doyle’s face.

“Report, 3.7.”

Bodie wiped his face, tried to stand at attention, and then slumped onto a bench nearby and said, “I’m waiting for the A& E doctor right now, sir, but Balliol didn’t seem injured. I saw the dark car barrelling down on us a few seconds before it got close enough and threw him out of the way. We both hit the pavement pretty hard, but he never lost consciousness or anything, and he was quite alert afterwards. I got him into a taxi right away and we came here. I’ve been waiting since then.”

“What information did you get about the car?”

“I’ve already sent in the make, model, and partial tag number, but I didn’t get a look at the driver so I can’t be of much help there.”

Murphy broke in at that point and asked about Bodie, “Are you all right, mate?”

“Yeah, a nurse gave me a brief look-see and except for a few abrasions, I’m good.”

At that moment, a doctor approached the three men and motioned Cowley to come with him. Entering the A & E, Cowley saw Peter Balliol sitting on a gurney putting his shirt on. There was an obvious bruise on his right shoulder, but, otherwise, the man looked remarkably calm, alert, and ready to go.

“Ah, George, I might have known you’d be along. Has the doctor given you all the vital information so I can get out of here?” The look the green eyes gave to George Cowley spoke volumes about how badly Balliol wanted to talk to Cowley but not here, and not in front of the doctor.

“Now, Peter, just calm yourself. I’m going to have a wee chat with the doctor and then and IF, he says that you can go, then we will go.”

A wicked gleam came into the green eyes as he whispered for Cowley’s ears only, “Yes, mum.”

Cowley’s blue eyes gave his friend a cold glare, but, in truth, Cowley was so glad to see Balliol all right that he would have forgiven him anything at the moment. Leaving Balliol, Cowley took the doctor aside and asked for his opinion about Balliol’s condition.

“Well, he was remarkably lucky. He has a few abrasions and a bad bruise on his shoulder where he hit the pavement, but otherwise, it’s relatively minor problems. He will be sore for a few days, and I’ve provided some mild painkillers for him if he feels the need, but since he gave a major snort when I handed them to him, I have my doubts about his bothering to take them.”

“Don’t worry, doctor. Of course, you know who your patient is, but I have two “gentlemen” who will be with him night and day and since they have been trained to handle the fiercest villains and hardest criminals, I think that they will be able to persuade the gentleman to behave himself and take his pills.”

The doctor had had a long acquaintance with George Cowley and his agents so he knew why Cowley had made his recent statement, but he also knew something of Peter Balliol since he had a formidable reputation as being stubborn and demanding the best in his medical practice; therefore, the doctor silently thought that this might be an epic battle between Balliol and CI5 in the guise of the two young men who were his “baby-sitters”.

“Well, Mr. Cowley, I will leave him in your agents’ capable hands. Please feel free to contact me, if necessary and certainly bring him back in if he feels unwell.”

Within minutes, the four men were walking out of the hospital. Cowley insisted upon driving Balliol to his apartment while Bodie and Murphy sat in the backseat. The two agents were silent and with the window between the seats raised they could hear nothing. If they could have heard what Balliol and Cowley were discussing at the moment, Bodie especially would have been extremely upset even though he would have denied it.

“Peter, it is time for us to act. I have put the alternate plan into action. I am planning to meet with the agent first thing tomorrow morning. I will expect your full cooperation. This is no longer conjecture. This is fact; there is a man who wants to kill you out there somewhere, and I will not take chances with your life.”

“George, I understand, but I still do not like putting another man in my place when my life is threatened. Surely, there must be another way.”

“We’ve given you two weeks to draw him out, and he’s done nothing until now. Clearly the danger is here in London and it might be even more provoked by the hearings that you are planning to have in a very short time. We must have your double in place and ready to go as soon as possible. I would very much like you to go to a safe house so that our man can occupy your apartment. He will not be speaking for you. He will only be a decoy so that your enemy is distracted by a visible Peter Balliol versus a discreet and well-hidden Peter Balliol. We’ve already talked this over and that is the way it must be. I will let you know what is to happen after I talk to the man tomorrow.”

“Oh no, WE will be talking to the man tomorrow.”

“What are you talking about? I won’t have you dictating to me about this even though we are friends.”

“And I won’t have another man put his life on the line for me without me meeting him and looking him in the eye when this whole fiasco is laid out before him.”

I do not plan fiascos, sir.”

Balliol smiled, “And what about the time you planned that football pool for our men to win so easily, and it ended up with the whole line practically having to declare bankruptcy before all the bets were paid off?”

Cowley started to growl then smiled, remembering fondly those months when Peter Balliol and his friend, Charles Bradley had become involved in MI. “Aye, laddie, you have too good a memory. It was a near run thing. If Charles hadn’t been so wealthy . . .” Here Cowley stopped as he realized he had mentioned the man who had meant so much to the man sitting next to him. 

The silence extended for several blocks until Peter Balliol finally cleared his throat and said, “It’s all right, George. By the way, have you heard from Charles lately?”

The time for truth had come. “As a matter of fact, I have. He vetted the agent, Ray Doyle for me. I didn’t want to bother you so he looked him over and agreed that he would be an able substitute for you.”

“You bothered Charles for that? How dare you? I can’t believe you interfered like that. I didn’t like this idea before and now I definitely don’t like it.”

“Calm yourself, Peter. I explained as little as possible to Charles about what we’re planning. I just wanted him to meet Doyle, which he did accidentally, and see if he was as good a likeness as I thought. That’s all. They’ve had no other contact since then - - that’s all.”

“All right, all right, but I will be there tomorrow morning so that I can vet this man for myself. After all, if he’s willing to take a bullet for me; the least I can do is face him, but, please George, keep Charles out of this.”

“Of course, Peter. Charles is no longer involved and if you must be there, you’ll need to show up at 10 00, all right?”

By the time this conversation had been completed, the four men were at Balliol’s apartment. Cowley left the three men behind, confident that his friend would be safe in his agents’ hands. Now all he had to do was to explain to Ray Doyle that he was going to go undercover and become a Member of Parliament, a medical doctor, a man whose sexual orientation had been spread across the newspapers and most important of all a target for some person who wanted his doppelganger dead.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER FIVE

Promptly at 10 00 Ray Doyle showed up at the Controller’s office. He didn’t know quite what to expect. His days had seemed to be in turmoil since his break up with Bodie and this was just one more thorn in his very sore side. The information that Bodie and Murphy were now working together had bothered him much more than he was willing to admit. He hadn’t really believed that Bodie would end their partnership without giving him a chance to explain, but then what words could he use to try and alleviate the debâcle that he had caused with a few words that seemed to ask too much of the ex-merc?

Doyle was immediately admitted to the Controller’s office. The older, ginger-haired man sat in his usual seat behind the desk whose replica held so many memories for Doyle now that he had lost the partner who had helped him destroy the original desk. Doyle had excellent peripheral vision, an important characteristic that had often saved his life, but this time, he knew that the person he saw very faintly on his right side was not a threat - - at least, not the kind of threat that he understood from his years on the street, but when he turned to get a better view, his whole world turned upside down.

Sitting in one of the comfortable chairs to the rear of the office was a man who looked a great deal like himself, perhaps a bit older, hair more brown in colour and fashioned quite differently. The stranger was certainly better dressed, but the man could have been his brother or some family member. Before Doyle could say anything, Cowley spoke up, “Peter, this is Ray Doyle, the agent I was telling you about. 4.5, this is Doctor Peter Balliol, a Member of Parliament and a personal friend of mine.”

The older man stood up and shook Doyle’s hand, taking a moment to look in the duplicate green eyes. Then he smiled and turned to George Cowley and said, “You were right, George.” With those few words, Doyle’s quick ear could hear the slightly different pitch of the man’s voice, and, of course, the education and culture that showed through. Nevertheless, the two men were remarkably alike.

“Sit down, 4.5, I’d like to explain your new assignment.” Waiting for Doyle to take a seat, Cowley picked up a folder labelled with the words, Peter Balliol, and handed it to Doyle then he quickly explained the threats to Balliol’s life and that it was necessary to use Doyle as a doppelganger for the MP so that he could go about his business while having someone else be the distraction if anybody wanted to attack Balliol.

This type of assignment was not new to Doyle. He had done the same sort of thing several times, but it still wasn’t easy to know that your job might entail taking a bullet for someone else. Peter Balliol broke into Doyle’s thoughts as he said, “I am not happy with this scenario, but these hearings are vital, and since there has been one attempt I have to take them seriously. I wanted to meet the man who is taking my place and who could possibly be killed for me. I want to thank you, and I will try to give you my full cooperation in this endeavour. As George explained to you, you will not have to speak for me, or do any of my MP duties; you’ll merely be going to different places and be seen so that any possible attacker will be distracted from the hearings. CI5’s security for the hearings is ready and with the two security teams that Mr. Cowley has provided already in place, I feel safe while working, but who knows what can happen?”

Cowley took over at this point, “Doyle, you will take this folder and memorise it. It has everything that we know about the situation. As of 05 00 tomorrow, you will report to Dr. Balliol’s apartment where you will become him. He will be going to a safe house and work from there except when he is at his meetings. A CI5 technician has already been there to make the security system up-to-date and Andrew, the CI5 disguise expert will be there to change your appearance. You are meeting at that time so that Peter (Doyle noticed how Cowley kept slipping into the familiar address with Balliol) can school you as much as possible on how to be Peter Balliol.”

Balliol smiled at the Controller and took over once again, “I’m sure you will find some things about me that you might not like. I am not trying to hide anything, but I’m sure that you will find out about my sexual orientation, if that makes you uncomfortable, please say so now. I’m hoping that this will not be difficult for you Mr. Doyle, but I have not led a sheltered life recently, and it may get a bit rough for you, above and beyond just the normal things that we’re doing in the hearings.”

“I’m sure I can handle the situation, sir. Before I go, could I have a private moment with you, sir?”

Balliol immediately spoke up and said, “I have to be leaving anyway; I wonder where my baby-sitters have got to?” Shaking hands with both Doyle and Cowley, Balliol left the office.

Blue eyes studied the slender man for a moment then Cowley asked, “Now, Doyle what is it?”

Doyle’s green eyes turned cold and demanding, “Does Charles Bradley know Peter Balliol, SIR?”

Cowley sighed; he should have known that Doyle’s ability to double and triple-think would put his thoughts well ahead of what Cowley had expected. He might as well tell the truth; Doyle deserved that. “Yes, Charles Bradley and Peter Balliol have been friends for years. They . . . were very close.”

“So that meeting at your club wasn’t just an accident, was it?”

“No, 4.5, I asked Charles to ‘run into you’ and sort of vet you. If he thought that you looked enough like Peter then I knew my plans would work.”

“I see.” Doyle’s cold eyes stared for a few more seconds then he dropped his stare and asked, “Is there anything else, sir?”

“No, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, but hopefully, it will all be worth it. Dismissed.”

Ray Doyle walked out of George Cowley’s office now knowing that the man who had become his friend over the last few weeks had not chosen him as a friend because he genuinely liked Ray Doyle, but because he wore Peter Balliol’s face. If Bradley and Balliol had been lovers, was that what Bradley had wanted from Doyle all along?

Tomorrow Ray Doyle would cease to exist temporarily; therefore, if the ex-copper wanted any answers, he would have to ask Charles Bradley tonight and since they had planned a night of squash and dinner out, this would be the perfect time.

The squash match had been hard fought. Bradley noticed the difference in Doyle, the intensity with which the man played. Doyle had been much like his lover, Peter Balliol in his tenacity and commitment to the game. That was one of the things that Bradley loved most about him. He was an intense man, full of life, ready to do battle for various causes and other people, and Ray Doyle seemed to be much like him. Sharing a bed with Doyle would have its own rewards.

After the match, the two men decided to forego dinner at a restaurant because it was obvious that Doyle wasn’t ready to sit and make pleasant conversation in some posh eating establishment so the two men headed for Bradley’s apartment where Bradley ordered takeaway for them. Doyle ate virtually nothing of the food that had arrived; he was so tense that the slender figure seemed ready to burst at the seams. Wandering around the apartment, Doyle suddenly turned on his host and announced, “I met Doctor Peter Balliol today.”

Bradley stared at him for a moment, refusing to drop his head. He had expected something like this so he knew that the next several moments were going to be bad, but nothing . . . nothing could be as bad as the day that he had walked away from the love of his life, Peter Balliol.

“I . . . see.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Oh, of course, I forgot, this was a set up between you and Cowley wasn’t it? I was to be vetted for the part of Peter Balliol and all this crap about meeting me accidentally was just for show. Did you even tell me half the truth or was this all made up?”

“It was all true, Ray. I was amazed at how much you look like Peter. George just asked me to meet you and see if I thought you would be a good choice for a plan he had. I didn’t know anything else at the time, but after I met you I . . . well, George would be furious if he knew.”

Confused, Doyle, although still infuriated and intense, calmed down enough to ask, “He would be furious about what?”

“I’m sorry, Ray, but you were so much like the younger Peter Balliol that I had fallen in love with so many years ago that I just couldn’t walk away after telling George that I thought you looked enough like Peter to do whatever George was planning. I know I shouldn’t have done so, but I just had to see you again. I haven’t seen Peter since I walked out on him and, well . . . it was like being with him again.”

Doyle could see the pain in Bradley’s eyes and decided to hear more of this man’s story. “What are you talking about?”

Bradley dropped his head to his chest as if he were contemplating the weight of the world on his shoulders, then he motioned Doyle to sit down as he took a seat nearby. “Have you ever heard of the Civil Partnership Act that went into effect last year?”

Doyle went white, a chill shivered through his body as he let out a gasp that he didn’t realize that he had released. Bradley immediately got up and came over to the man, “Ray, are you all right? What have I said?”

Doyle pulled himself together and whispered, “I’m all right; it’s a long story. I’ll tell you later. Sit here beside me and tell me what civil partnerships have to do with this whole thing.”

Bradley sat down and quietly began to explain. “Peter and I had been lovers for quite awhile even though Peter was married. It was only after Naomi had stood by Peter during the gay establishment fiasco and then got a divorce that I realized that we might have to make a decision about our relationship. I was so naïve and cowardly. I knew that I was safe and wouldn’t really have to make any commitments as long as Peter was married. Now, Peter was not only single again, but he had been outed and in the most brutal way. Suddenly, I got a whole new look at our future, and I wasn’t sure I could handle it.”

“Go . . . on.” Doyle managed to say those two words but privately, he was in agony; it was like hearing his own story with Bodie, and it was to get much worse.

“Well, Peter started making hints that he would like a much more open relationship with me, but he understood that he couldn’t flaunt a homosexual intimacy as a Member of Parliament, nor would I want to do so with my law career, but he hoped that we could live together discreetly and be with each other more.”

“I was willing to do that, but we maintained separate apartments for appearances sake, and there wasn’t a true commitment to a future together; then along came the Civil Partnership Act. Being a Member of Parliament, Peter knew that it was being worked on, and began to talk more and more about a possible civil partnership when it was legal. That tripped every alarm bell in my head to the very real danger that might be involved in exposing me to the notoriety like the mud that had been slung at Peter a few years before. Well, I began to retreat into myself, and then the law actually went into effect, and, since I knew that I wasn’t ready to leave the closet, I told Peter that I was not interested in a civil partnership, and that I wanted our relationship to stay as it was.”

Once again a cold wash of sweat came over Doyle as he heard Bradley’s words which could almost have been spoken by William Andrew Philip Bodie. It was apparent to Doyle that Bodie and Bradley had similar fears: fear of exposure of his sexual nature, and the even more deeply embedded fear of commitment. Suddenly, Doyle’s empathy and understanding of Peter Balliol climbed to new heights. As all these thoughts ran through Doyle’s mine, the only thing he managed to say was, “Go on.”

“After I told Peter of my feelings, he said nothing. He didn’t condemn me or shout or anything. I almost wish he had, but I could see the pain and disappointment in those wonderful green eyes. I knew I had hurt him deeply, and I began to feel the coldness come into our relationship. Within a few weeks, we were almost like strangers, and I haven’t seen him now in almost a year. That’s why it was so strange to see you. You know you look incredibly like he did when he was in his thirties. I’m really sorry. I hurt Peter because I was a coward, and I hurt you because I needed so much to be with a man with Peter’s face. For awhile, it was just because you look like Peter, I’ll admit that, but after seeing you a few times, I realized how much I liked you for yourself. You became so important to me. I found that I just enjoyed being with you and that you were so easy to be with, but George had told me to stay away from you, so I . . . guess I’ve always known this day would come.”

Doyle stood up and walked across the room; then he turned and faced the man who had become so important in his life. “I won’t pretend that I’m not hurt, but I’m not going to be a hypocrite and say that I don’t understand. In fact, I do, in a way. What happened to you is what happened to me recently. I made the mistake of asking . . . the man I was sleeping with to marry me, and he reacted somewhat like you did. I had been dreaming about civil partnerships, and I was stupid and said something out loud. Our relationship is now over, but he was very important to me. What makes it tougher is that he . . . he was my partner.”

Bradley said nothing for a moment then he got up and walked over to Doyle and said, “I’m sorry, Ray. I never meant to hurt you. In fact, I wanted to do just the opposite. I hoped that you and I could be intimate, if you wanted to. I promise I wouldn’t mix you up with Peter, but you said that you met Peter, does that mean that whatever Cowley’s plan is ready to start?”

“Yes, I won’t be available after tomorrow. I just had to confront you tonight because Ray Doyle won’t be around for awhile. Since you were called in to vet me, I assume that you were informed about what was going on.”

“No, I wasn’t, but I’m not stupid. If you’re going in as Peter Balliol, then there must be some kind of threat to him, and you get to be the tethered goat. Please take care. I hope you don’t hate me.” Bradley gave Doyle a brief squeeze on his forearm and stepped back, figuratively freeing himself from Doyle as he had done so literally from Balliol.

Doyle nodded and walked towards the door and then he stopped and turned, looking like a forlorn, lost urchin who had been thrown out into the cold, “Since you and I both know the score, and we both understand the rules, is it really necessary that I go home right away? I have to be up early to get to my ‘assignment’, but we do have a few hours, don’t we?”

A tear entered Bradley’s eye, “Are you sure, Ray?”

Instead of saying anything, Ray Doyle headed towards the master bedroom. Hours later, after Doyle had left for his very early appointment, Charles Bradley continued to lie in bed, remembering the intimacy that had occurred in the big queen-size bed. There had only been gentleness and tenderness. They had shared kisses which Doyle had almost seemed starved for, and they cuddled more than anything. They both knew that this would be their only time together, and too soon Doyle had to get up and leave. As Bradley lay there thinking about the departed Doyle, another thought entered his mind: had Peter Balliol ever whispered the name, Charles as he slept with another lover, just as Ray Doyle had whispered the name, Bodie as he slept?


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SIX

Promptly at 05 30, Ray Doyle arrived at Peter Balliol’s apartment. Henderson, one of the men from the four teams which would be guarding both Balliol and Doyle over the coming weeks, met him at the door. Doyle’s stomach was doing flip flops as he realized that he would probably see Bodie as he and Murphy arrived to take over their shift of guarding Peter Balliol. When Doyle had seen the list of agents involved in the protection of the two Peter Balliols, his heart almost stopped, but he only had three and a half hours to change his appearance as well as learn from Balliol before the actual day began so he put his feelings about Bodie to the back of his mind. He hadn’t seen or talked to Bodie in over a month. He felt a great deal of burden on his shoulders starting a new assignment, being undercover, and meeting Bodie. The latter was going to be the true test of his will power. 

For the next several hours, Doyle talked to Peter Balliol, learning as much as possible, including important information such as who were the people Doyle should avoid since they might be able to recognize a Balliol look-alike. Doyle even remembered to ask Balliol how he addressed the agents who had been guarding him. At the same time, Andrew was doing his magic to straighten Doyle’s curls as well as changing the colour to a slightly more brownish hue. By the end of the three hours, Doyle felt he was ready, but his heart plummeted when he heard Bodie’s voice out in the large sitting room. He looked at Balliol, who had been giving him a last once-over, and raised his eyebrow.

Balliol smiled, “Go ahead, we might as well find out how good a student you are.”

Doyle left the room and headed toward the sitting room. Strangely only Murphy was sitting in the room. “Ah, Mr. Murphy, I thought I heard your partner’s voice?”

“You did, sir, but he wanted to talk to the night agents before they left so I thought I’d wait for you here. We should be going soon.”

“I see, well I think we have a few moments, and I badly need some coffee. Would you like some?”

After Murphy gratefully accepted the cup, the two men set back in their chairs and conversed for several minutes while waiting for Bodie to appear. Although Doyle was extremely tense waiting for Bodie’s appearance, it seemed that Murphy noticed nothing different about the man who sat across from him. Doyle was just congratulating himself on his portrayal of the very complex man when Bodie entered the room.

“Good morning, Mr. Balliol. Murphy, I’ve got the schedule worked out with Simmons and Henderson for the next several days. It seems Mr. Cowley wants to see all of us about something and . . .” For several seconds Bodie had been studying Balliol from across the room, then he approached the table near Doyle and poured a cup of coffee, and then turned to face the man with Doyle’s face, “How long do you think these meetings will be today, sir?”

“I’m not really sure; I’m sure you can imagine that when some of my colleagues get going they want their words to be heard and that can take awhile. I’m afraid we might have a long day.”

Bodie smiled but it didn’t reach his blue eyes. “Yes, I’m sure that’s true. The trouble is; what colleagues are you talking about?” With those words, Bodie’s entire body went tense, his face a block of ice as he pulled his gun from his holster and pointed it directly at the impostor Balliol’s face, “Who are you?”

Murphy immediately leapt up and approached Bodie, “What are you doin’, mate? You know who this is?”

Bodie kept his attention on the seated man, but replied, “Do we, Murph? Are you sure this is Peter Balliol?”

“Of course, it is, put that gun away.”

“I need some proof, Mr. Balliol, if that’s who you are?”

Suddenly a voice, from behind them said, “Very good, Mr. Bodie, I guess we still have some work to do on perfecting the second Peter Balliol.”

Both agents whirled around to see another Peter Balliol standing in the doorway of the bedroom, a smile on his face. Murphy’s face filled with confusion as he turned to look at the seated Peter Balliol, but Bodie’s face was suddenly filled with comprehension as he turned to look at the seated man and whispered, “Ray?”

With barely a whisper, Ray Doyle said, “Hello, Bodie.”

Bodie put his gun away, and took a step back. “I knew it; I knew it. What are you doing here, sunshine?”

Peter Balliol entered further into the room and drew the attention away from Ray Doyle. “I think it is my fault and, of course, George Cowley’s that your colleague is here, Mr. Bodie. After that attempt on my life, George decided that I should have a decoy to keep any potential assassins distracted while I go about my business with the hearings. Mr. Doyle has only had this morning to practice, and he’s done extremely well, but obviously when he meets someone who knows me or him quite well, it is evident that we are not yet ready.” Balliol smiled and said to Doyle, “Well, Ray, I have to go to my meeting soon. Why don’t you go into my study? I showed you where that is. I’ve laid out quite a bit of material that you might want to familiarise yourself with before you begin wandering around the city as your new self.”

Doyle merely nodded, not even bothering to look at Bodie. He vaguely smiled at Murphy, however; then disappeared into the room nearby.

Balliol, on the other hand, stared directly at Bodie. “I would imagine that this particular situation is what George wants to talk to you about today. I would have hoped that this would have been less of a shock, but knowing George as I do, I’m not surprised that he hasn’t told you yet.”

Bodie’s coldness was quite obvious so Murphy continued the conversation. “Yessir. I will accompany you to work, and Bodie will go to the meeting along with the other agents. Jamison will take over escort duty for Ray while the rest go to see Cowley.”

Doyle was intent on the material that he was reading. It was obvious that Peter Balliol was a very complex man, and that his life had not always been a happy one. Before Doyle could get too far into his reading, he heard some loud voices coming from the living room. Although he didn’t have a gun, Doyle reacted immediately and went to the door to see what the disturbance was. Within seconds, he saw a familiar face entering the room; it was Charles Bradley.

“Peter, I . . . are you all right? I know I promised not to come around, but I heard that you were having trouble, and I . . . well, I just had to know if you were all right.”

Peter Balliol smiled, but it didn’t really reach his green eyes. “Of course, I’m all right, Charles; thanks to this gentleman. This is Mr. Bodie and this is Mr. Murphy, they have been my bodyguards for the last few weeks and kept me safe. This is a friend, Charles Bradley.”

Bodie quickly picked up on the questioning look that Charles Bradley gave him after Balliol had introduced him. Once again, Murphy filled the gap by shaking the man’s hand, but Bodie was all business. “How did you get in here, Mr. Bradley?”

“Oh, I showed the gentleman at the door, a note that George gave me. I can be very persuasive when I want, and I convinced him that I needed to see Peter. I’m really sorry to have bothered all of you, but I just had to know that Peter was all right.”

Once again Peter smiled at his former lover. There was a great deal of affection in his eyes as he looked at the man that he had shared so much of his life with. “I’ll talk to you later, Charles. I won’t be here for a few days so I’ll contact you, all right?”

Charles Bradley looked at his friend and former lover and nodded. It was nice meeting you gentlemen. I’ll see myself out.”

“Just a moment, Mr. Bradley, you said that you had heard that Mr. Balliol was having trouble; who told you about his troubles?”

Bradley acted as if he was thinking then said, “I really can’t remember. If you hang around the Parliament offices, White Hall and other government buildings, you hear all kinds of things I guess I just picked it up.”

Everyone knew that Bradley was lying, but Bodie merely nodded and let the man go on his way. George Cowley would have been very proud of Bodie’s triple think ability during the next few minutes. The information about the threats to Balliol’s life had been very hush-hush, and the vehicle accident even more secret and yet Charles Bradley had actually heard about it from someone. Charles Bradley had immediately recognized Balliol as the real one so their relationship was indeed very close. Bodie began to put two and two together and it all added up to Ray Doyle. Did Ray know Charles Bradley? How was Ray really involved in this situation beyond wearing Peter Balliol’s face? Bodie was going to go see Cowley. He was determined to have the truth from the man who was the master of triple think.

Six of the eight agents who were to guard Balliol and Doyle had a lengthy meeting with Cowley about their assignment. It was absolutely essential that the two men be guarded at all times so the eight men would be rotated on twelve hour shifts with four assigned to Doyle, who would be living at Balliol’s apartment, and four with Balliol, who would be living at the CI5 safe house. The real problem was that since the team of Bodie/Murphy and Simmons/Henderson had already been seen with Peter Balliol, they also had to be seen with Doyle so that anyone watching the comings and goings of Balliol would not be suspicious. That meant that at certain times Balliol would have to stay undercover so that Doyle could wander around safely without worrying that the second Balliol would be seen in another place at the same time.

After hearing Cowley’s fifteenth millionth word on the subject, all of the agents were tired to the bone of hearing the Scot’s less than golden words of wisdom, and none more so than William Bodie. The tenseness in the man radiated to one and all and none more so than George Cowley. The Scot knew that as soon as he ended the meeting after making sure that everyone understood the complicated rotation system of guarding two men at the same time, Bodie would pounce on him figuratively, if not literally and demand to know what was going on. Finally, after dotting every ‘I’, and crossing every T, Cowley ended the meeting, and Bodie met Cowley’s expectation by asking to talk to the Controller in private.

After seeing that all the men, except Bodie, had left, Cowley looked at the ex-merc who was giving a very good imitation of a caged lion and said, “All right, 3.7, say what you have to say.”

“Why didn’t you tell me and Murphy what you were planning? After all we’ve been guarding Balliol for several weeks, and we should have been kept informed.”

Cowley removed his glasses and stared at the deep blue eyes, “Don’t you really mean, why I didn’t tell you that Doyle would be going undercover on this case?”

Bodie straightened up as if he had been struck, then he recovered and said, “If you don’t trust me and Murphy to do our jobs then maybe you should get someone else.”

“Och, man., don’t be more of a fool than you have been. Go get us a drink and we’ll discuss this like civilized men, if you can do that.”

Hesitantly, Bodie followed instructions and after a few minutes, both men were settled in, Cowley contemplating what he should say to this man who, on the subject of Ray Doyle, was as volatile as Mt. Vesuvius. “Bodie, I had hoped that we would not have to use Doyle for this situation. I have known Peter Balliol for many years and, of course, I noticed Doyle’s remarkable resemblance to Balliol, but, until there was an actual attempt on Balliol’s life, I was reluctant to call Doyle into the case. I did, however, ask Charles Bradley, whom I believe you’ve met, to vet Doyle. I wanted to be sure that my perception of Doyle’s likeness to Balliol was not mistaken so I asked Bradley to accidentally run into Doyle, and he promptly confirmed my conclusion. It was only after the attempt on Peter that I called Doyle in and, of course, you know the rest. What was it about Doyle that gave him away? Of course, he’ll be wandering around trying to attract the attention of the assassin, but if it was some flaw that is noticeable then we must correct it right away.”

Bodie sat for a moment, contemplating how could he tell Cowley that it was Ray Doyle’s unique scent that had tipped him off? When he had approached the man, while getting coffee, he had inhaled that uniqueness that would always say Ray Doyle to him. Only a person who had been Doyle’s bed mate would pick up on that intimate characteristic, and Bodie wasn’t sure how to tell Cowley that so Bodie decided to prevaricate with a man who could read him like a book.

“Doyle was very good, sir. I didn’t really realize it was him, but I’ve been Doyle’s partner for over five years, and there was a look in his eyes, the way he sat, something that gave him away, but I really don’t think anyone else would pick up on those things because no one else has been that close to him recently. Perhaps, a change in his aftershave might help and a bit more Parliamentary arrogance might help, but that’s the only thing I can think of.”

“Hmmmm, you could be right, after all something as small as a different shampoo or aftershave might be a giveaway. Let’s hope that our assassin isn’t that well-versed in Peter’s personal tastes, but we cannot be too careful. Anything else, Bodie?”

“Yes, sir. Why am I being permanently assigned to Mr. Balliol while Murph is being assigned the rotation position for both men? I would have thought that I would have been . . .”

“Questioning my assignments again, are you Bodie?”

“No, sir, but being Ray’s partner, I would have thought . . .”

“That’s just it, Bodie. I don’t know what happened between you and Doyle, but you are no longer his partner. You have had more than a month to approach him and talk over this argument that you had, and you have chosen to avoid any contact with Doyle; therefore, I think you have forfeited any claims on being the best one to guard 4.5.”

Bodie sat upright in indignation, “Did Doyle say that?”

“Oh I see, so he walked out on you, did he?”

Bodie’s face turned red as he squirmed in his seat, “No, sir, I . . . chose to walk out on him, but I still think that I know Doyle better than anyone else and should be the one to guard him.”

“I’ll make that decision, 3.7. In the meantime, I still need one of my best agents to guard Peter Balliol, and for the moment, that is you. Perhaps, when this assignment is over, you will find time to talk to your former partner, and see if your hurt pride or whatever it is will allow you to save your partnership. I have hesitated to make any permanent re-assignments, but I will do so if this situation can’t be resolved in the near future.”

“Yessir.” Bodie swallowed the small amount of remaining liquor, and then left to go find Murphy and Balliol. His thoughts as he drove, however, centred on Charles Bradley. If Doyle had told Bradley about the threat to Balliol, what was the true relationship between the two men? Bodie knew that Balliol and Bradley had been lovers; could it be possible that Bradley had got the man with Balliol’s face to go to bed with him as well?

+++ +++ +++

After spending the day, reading over the materials that Peter Balliol had left for him, Doyle made sure where Peter Balliol was, and then decided to go out for a walk. Nothing happened while he wandered around, and he hadn’t expected anything to happen.

After eating a quickly made meal, Doyle sat back to continue reading. Finally, about 21 00, Doyle placed a phone call to Charles Bradley. He had to know the answer to the question that had been bothering him all day. How had Bradley known that it was Balliol that he was talking to, especially since he must have been expecting Ray to be there, looking like Balliol. He couldn’t very well ask Bodie how he had recognized that he wasn’t Peter Balliol, so Bradley had to explain.

“Hello?”

“Charles, it’s me, Ray.”

“Ray, you aren’t calling me to ball me out, are you?”

Doyle laughed, “You mean because you showed up at a certain person’s apartment this morning?”

“So you were there; I thought you might be around.”

“Well, since you had Cowley’s permission, I can’t really slap your hand, can I, but you do have to be careful.”

“Yes, I do realize that now. I don’t want to endanger either one of you, but when I saw Peter, I couldn’t help myself.”

“That brings up what I wanted to ask you. How did you know it was Balliol? You knew I would be around there somewhere, how did you know that you weren’t talking to me?”

“I guess there were several things: the look in Peter’s eyes was one I ‘ve seen several times, and his demeanour was totally Peter Balliol, you really need to work on having the mentality of an MP, Ray.”

“Yes, I can understand that, but it must have been something more, because Bodie recognized right away that I wasn’t Peter Balliol, so what is it that marks us so distinctively?”

“Do you really want me to tell you?”

“Of course, it might save our lives.”

“Of course, Ray. Well . . . here goes. You and Peter each have a very unique, distinct scent that only a lover would pick up. Having slept with both of you, I can attest that I would know either of you immediately, if I could be close to you. I suspect, Ray, that Bodie would be able to do the same thing. Correct me if I’m wrong.”

Doyle sat there speechless. So that was the secret, Bodie knew that I was not Peter Balliol because he recognized my scent? Finally, after a few seconds, Doyle responded even though he was badly shaken, “Thanks, Charles, I have to go now.”

As Doyle replaced the receiver, he heard Bradley say, “Be careful, Ray.” The confused agent sat back on the sofa in the large living room, contemplating what he had just heard.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER SEVEN

Peter Balliol’s hearings were coming to an end. There had been a lot of testimony, but no attempts on his life. The constant rotation of agents was taking its toll on everyone. Balliol didn’t question why Bodie seemed to be the only constant on his protection team, but he had his suspicions. The look on Doyle’s face that day in his apartment had told him a great deal. In fact, he saw in Doyle’s face the same anguish that he had felt when Charles Bradley had walked away from him more than a year before. Peter Balliol might not be an expert on triple-think, but he was very good at reading people and what he saw in Doyle’s and Bodie’s faces spoke volumes. Obviously the two men had been very close at one time.

The final week of hearings sped by. Balliol continued to ask about Doyle’s efforts on his behalf. He was extremely bothered by the fact that the man might have to lay down his life just to impersonate him, and he didn’t like it anymore now than he did when George Cowley had suggested it. Balliol knew that Doyle had been seen as Balliol all over London, but never when Balliol was out and about. Likewise Balliol had secluded himself so that Doyle could, hopefully, draw the attention of any potential assassin. There had been one or two further notes with vague threats, but it seemed as if the assassin was either trying to lure them into a false sense of security, or he had changed his mind. 

George Cowley would soon have a very difficult decision to make. He could not, in good conscience, keep eight of his agents on full time protection duty, if nothing was happening. If fact, if the truth were known and the man being protected wasn’t a Member of Parliament, the duo protection teams would have already been pulled. Peter Balliol was his friend and a member of the government and if it had been Cowley’s choice, he would have kept up the protection indefinitely, but that wasn’t realistic. They had been very lucky in the past few weeks that the criminals that CI5 usually dealt with had seemed to take a break, but that couldn’t last and so he would have to recall most of those agents protecting both Doyle and Balliol.

Of even more concern for Cowley was what he would do once the case with Balliol ended. As far as he knew, Bodie and Doyle had had no communication with each other since Bodie had discovered that the man with Balliol’s face was really his partner of seven years. A partnership was based on trust; how could these two men ever return to an efficient partnership, if they couldn’t even talk to each other? Once this op was over, Cowley was determined to call both men in and find out what the argument was really about.

BDBDBDBDBDBD

It was the last day of the hearings and Peter Balliol was extremely glad that he didn’t have to hear anymore chatter, whinging, and excuses ad infinitum from the gallery of witnesses who had given creditable and not-so-creditable testimony. Gathering up his materials, he nodded to Bodie, who stood near the back of the hearing room. The handsome agent was going to escort him to the safe house for possibly the last time. Hopefully, George would say that the whole protection op was over and that he could return to his apartment, and then . . . maybe he could meet with Charles and they could talk about their differences.

The first time Balliol had seen Bodie he noticed a small resemblance between Charles and the agent, but their personalities were totally different. Balliol had made a point of finding out as much as he could about all the agents who were protecting him, but Bodie’s background information was very limited. He was clearly ex-military and there he differed from Charles. It was true that he and Charles had served in MI for a time, but that was in their capacities as doctor and lawyer. Bodie was all military with a past which still clearly coloured his thinking. Oh well, this will soon all be over.

Ray Doyle had stayed in the background while wandering the parliamentary buildings. He had created a temporary disguise which helped him hide his Balliol face. When he needed to be Balliol, he was the epitome of the man, but Doyle was too good an agent to not want to back up the action. He knew that today was the final day of the hearings, and he had been feeling shivers down his spine as if something untoward was going to happen, and assuming that Balliol would be involved, Doyle knew that Bodie would also be nearby.

Doyle noticed everything and everybody. There were hundreds of people wandering in and about the area near Balliol’s office and on the floor of the hearings. Doyle’s sharp green eyes picked up nothing suspicious until he noticed a short, stout, weasel-like sort of man who seemed to be all over the same areas that Doyle had been patrolling. Doyle decided that he needed to keep an eye on him, but he didn’t want to commit himself to just this man so he decided to see if he could find Murphy and alert him about this person.

Approaching the hearing room, Doyle noticed that the doors were open and the individuals inside were filing out. Obviously the hearing had come to an end. Doyle could see Murphy wandering (very haphazardly) towards Bodie and Balliol, but since there were numerous people between him and the two agents, he decided to wait until they were alone with Balliol. After a moment, Murphy separated from the two men, probably to get their bullet proof car so that Balliol would be exposed as little as possible.

Doyle began to follow the remaining two men down a deserted corridor when he suddenly noticed the weasel man step in between Doyle and the two men. Doyle’s nerves were on full alert, but he quickly realized that he was not wearing his gun, so he did the next best thing when he spotted the man pull a gun out and point it at the backs of Balliol and Bodie. 

Doyle’s instinct came into immediately use. Running towards the little man who was distracted by what he was about to do, Doyle shouted, “BODIE, DOWN”. Bodie immediately reacted in that split second as he recognized his partner’s voice and with the absolute knowledge that Doyle knew what he was doing, Bodie threw Peter Balliol to the ground and covered him with his own body.

Doyle’s body continued its movement and ploughed into the assassin without further thought. The man had had a split second to realize the danger he was in and had turned slightly towards Doyle. When the well-trained body hit him, the breath was knocked of the would-be assassin, but his hand still instinctively reacted, causing the gun to go off. Doyle felt a burning sensation in his side and knew he had been hit, but he was still a well-trained agent so he knocked the man to the floor and held onto him. 

Doyle’s wound was bleeding, but he was conscious and heard Bodie calling on the R/T. Within seconds, Bodie was by his side, checking that the potential assassin was incapacitated. Then Bodie turned to hear Murphy rushing towards the corridor and immediately ordered him to help Doyle while he returned to Balliol’s side.

Murphy’s face came into view, but Doyle’s sight was somewhat foggy, he managed to ask Murphy if Balliol was all right before blackness took over.

Sometime later Doyle woke up in a hospital bed. His side hurt, but he really didn’t feel too badly. Almost immediately, Murphy entered the room. As soon as he saw that Doyle was awake, he smiled and said, “Well, the hero has returned to us. The Cow will be in to see you in a few minutes; he’s with Balliol now. The doctor’s already talked to him about your wound. You were very lucky it seems; the bullet didn’t hit anything vital.”

“Balliol was hit?”

“No, no, but when Bodie shoved him to the ground; he hit his head pretty good so the Cow insisted that he come to hospital and be checked out. You know something? That guy hates hospitals as much as you do. You sure you two aren’t related?”

Doyle grimaced as he tried to move, but he managed to get out with reasonable clarity, “What about the shooter?”

“Oh, he’s fine . . . well, I guess he’s fine; Bodie’s been grilling him for the last hour or so. Cowley got a message from Bodie a few minutes ago so I imagine we’ll hear more information soon.”

Almost as soon as Murphy said those words, Cowley entered Doyle’s room. “Och, 4.5, you’re finally awake. I didn’t think such a small wound would cause so much fuss, but since you saved Balliol, I guess I won’t send you to Macklin for a refit.”

Doyle tried to smile since he could see the concern on Cowley’s face, “Thank you, sir. Is Mr. Balliol, all right?”

“Aye, he has a wee headache from hitting the ground, but there isn’t a concussion although Charles is determined that Peter shouldn’t be allowed to leave. That’s why I left Peter’s room because I’m not sure which of the two gentlemen is more stubborn and going to win this argument.”

“Charles Bradley is with Mr. Balliol?”

“Aye, sometime I’m going to have to find out just who Charles’ sources are; just like who happened to tell him that Balliol was in trouble in the first place.” Cowley said nothing more, but his blue eyes stared directly at the supine figure in the bed.

Doyle said nothing, trying to look innocent even though it was almost impossible to do so when he was in pain. 

“Well, since you are awake, I thought you might be interested to know who our assassin was. He’s Walter Hickenlooper. He’s really sort of a pathetic man. Under Bodie’s “questioning”, he admitted everything. His daughter has come out as they say as a lesbian. She has spent the last several weeks, reading and quoting from the Civil Partnership Act. It seems she and . . . her intended want to participate in this act and she has been flaunting it in front of her less than enthusiastic father. Unfortunately, she is a big fan of Peter Balliol’s, telling her father about this Member of Parliament who has come out and admitted to his sexual nature. I guess the constant harangue about Balliol and gay rights tipped Hickenlooper over the edge and somehow he got it in his mind, that if he got rid of Balliol, the law would go away, the girl friend would disappear, and his happy home would return again.”

“Do you think that the danger is over then?”

“Well, we’re going to give it a few more days with a vastly reduced staff. You will begin your re-incarnation into Ray Doyle, and Peter will return to his apartment with one team of protectors for a day or so; then we will make a decision about what to do.”

“When can I get out of here?”

“You’ll be here still tomorrow. Andrew will come in and take care of your physical appearance; then you will be sent home on sick leave.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I have to go now, and find out what the two gentlemen in the room up the hall have decided to do. Anson will be by tomorrow to pick you up and take you home. You won’t need him to stay with you or anything, will you?”

“No sir, I’ll be fine on my own.”

“Very good, I sincerely doubt that will be true of Mr. Balliol. I have a suspicion that a certain friend of mine will insist on visiting him frequently and applying his best nursing skills to the ‘invalid.’ Cowley left then with a small smile on his face. If only the conflict between his two best agents could be resolved as easily.

Two days later, 3.7 sat in a very uncomfortable chair across from the Controller of CI5 who was pontificating in all his majesty. Murphy had already received Cowley’s golden words of wisdom moments before and now it was Bodie’s turn. The Balliol case had been closed down. Balliol was now home at his apartment with one Charles Bradley in close attendance to help in the recovery from his bumped head. Two of the teams had stayed on duty for the two days, but it was clear the crisis was over. The little man had acted by himself, and although Balliol was still involved in controversies, it seemed the threat had ended. Cowley had now removed all four teams and was now concluding the debriefing.

Cowley had deliberately left Bodie until last because he had a lot to say to the man, and quite frankly, Cowley wasn’t sure what impact this talk would have on Bodie, Doyle, and even CI5.

Cowley decided to begin the meeting on the offensive. “Why didn’t you notice that Hickenlooper was following Peter Balliol and yourself, 3.7?”

Bodie sat up straighter as he quickly realized that Cowley had more on the agenda than just completing the case’s debriefing. Bodie’s deep blue eyes immediately became wary and shadowed as he readily admitted to himself that he had badly slipped up at the end of the Balliol case. He had been thinking of other things, and his lack of attention had almost cost Balliol his life . . . luckily Ray had been there, covering his back, as usual. Finding his voice, Bodie replied, “No, excuse, sir. I thought we had got out of there with no attacks, and I let other thoughts get in the way.”

“I . . . see. You had one duty and one duty only - - to protect Peter Balliol, and you let other thoughts get in the way. These thoughts didn’t have anything to do with your former partner, Ray Doyle, did they?”

Cowley had deliberately added that extra adjective because he wanted to see Bodie’s reaction, and the look he saw in the depths of those blue eyes, told a great deal. Bodie was truly upset by the idea that he had lost Doyle as a partner. Was it possible that Bodie was also upset by a lot more than just the end to the partnership?

“Has . . . has Ray asked for a re-assignment, sir?”

“No he hasn’t, and quite frankly I don’t know why he hasn’t. He attempted to get in contact with you, but you have failed to communicate with him for better than a month; why shouldn’t he assume that you no longer wish to be his partner?”

“I’ve had other assignments and then came this op with Balliol; I really haven’t had much time.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize that our technology had failed so badly that one simple phone call couldn’t be made. You didn’t even go seem him while he was in hospital.”

Suddenly, all the memories of another time when Doyle was in hospital after being severely beaten by Pendle and Crabbe came to Bodie’s mind. He had showed up at the hospital to visit Claire and had only stayed a few minutes with Doyle. He hadn’t even brought grapes. Sighing, Bodie realized that he had to bear the brunt of this estrangement from Doyle, even though Doyle had started the whole thing with that idiotic question he had asked. Another thought came to Bodie’s mind, however, as he realized that he really hadn’t given Doyle a chance to explain; he had just started ranting and raving, and had got out of there with just minutes. Doyle’s eyes were wide open with fear and the moisture in the edges of those glorious eyes spoke volumes about how upset Doyle was.

“You’re right, sir. I didn’t know what to say to him.”

“How about, thank you for saving my life?”

“Yes sir, I know it’s my fault. I’ll go over and see him today, after I leave CI5.”

“All right, in that case, you may leave now and not report back until Thursday.” 

As Bodie stood up to leave, however, Cowley called him back, “Bodie, I want it clearly understood; if you and Doyle can’t work out your differences in the next few days, I will definitely split up the team, and you will be permanently working with other agents, is that clear?”

“Yes sir, thank you.” With a sigh of relief, Bodie left Cowley’s office. He hadn’t really expected Cowley to give him a chance to try and change this situation with Doyle, but now he realized that he had a far more difficult task ahead of him. He still believed that Doyle had been in the wrong for asking for more than he wanted, but he knew that he had been wrong to avoid Doyle. They should have cleared the air a long time ago. Well, he had managed to get around the most stubborn man in the entire realm, George Cowley; now he just had to convince the second most stubborn man in Britain to take him back as a partner and to continue their friendship.

Unfortunately, Bodie did not realize that while he was on his way to beard the lion, the green-eyed dragon had already come to his own decision.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER EIGHT

It was over . . . definitely over. Doyle had made up his mind while lying on the sterile white bed in hospital. His partnership with Bodie was over. Bodie had had almost six weeks to contact Doyle after that disastrous early morning fiasco, but he had chosen not to. Doyle had tried to talk to him on the phone and had sent a message but the dumb crud had made his feelings quite plain by not responding. Enough was enough. Bodie was no longer his partner; now Doyle just had to tell Cowley that. The real problem was that Doyle had just left the hospital hours before, thanks to Anson. He really didn’t feel like going to headquarters to talk to the Cow so the final death knell of the partnership would have to wait at least a day or two.

Doyle’s shoulder had begun to hurt, but the slender body didn’t seem to want to cooperate so Doyle continued to stand at the window, looking out at the street below. As he looked out, the world before his eyes seemed so normal and in rhythm while the world inside his flat seemed to be falling apart. Why had he opened his mouth and asked Bodie to marry him? He was a trained agent, who had been trained from day one to have absolute control over his thoughts. The fact that he had been thinking about a civil partnership didn’t justify the mortifying question that he had blurted out. Of course, Bodie had overreacted, but that didn’t justify his words. The thought kept going through Doyle’s mind about Bodie’s words. If that was what Bodie really thought of him, then why did he even want to be around the insulting sod anymore? Maybe his slip of the tongue really was a favour in disguise?

Doyle knew that he should take another painkiller, but that little tablet made him feel so out of control that he was afraid to take them at hospital because he had been expecting Bodie to show up and his loose tongue had already got him in enough trouble. There was no reason to be concerned about that now, so why not take a pill and enter a state of blissful oblivion, if only for a few hours?

Doyle turned to go find the medicines that Anson had packed for him, but stopped when someone knocked on the door. Opening it tentatively, Doyle stood in amazement for several seconds as he saw his partner . . . his FORMER partner standing there in a defiant pose. Doyle tried to pull himself together by going on the offensive.

“How’d you get in?”

“The old darlin’ who guards the entrance, of course. You know she loves me.”

It was true Mrs. Henderson hated Doyle but loved Bodie. She gushed over him every time he visited Doyle. In many ways, she reminded Doyle of Marge Harper, except that Doyle was the “lout” and Bodie really had something . . . whatever that was.  
Doyle nodded at Bodie’s response but didn’t drop his hostility. “What are you doin’ here?”

Bodie’s face changed as he showed Doyle the bag that he had not noticed before. “Brought you some goodies; didn’t know if Anson had even the remotest idea of your strange eating habits.”

“They’re not strange . . .” Doyle wanted to continue, but he knew that would give Bodie an opening so he shut his mouth and reached for the bag, merely muttering, “Thanks” as he took the bag.

Bodie’s face remained unmoved but the hurt in his deep blue eyes spoke of the disappointment he felt that Doyle seemed to be guarding the gates of his abode with a dedication that would have reflected well on a eunuch at the harem gates. Bodie stared at Doyle for a few seconds then asked in a voice just above a whisper, “Could I come in, got something to ask you?”

“Oh, so you want to talk to me now, what’s changed?”

For a moment Bodie’s face collapsed into utter despair then the rigid coldness that Bodie was famous for settled into place. Bodie began to turn away as he muttered, “Sorry I bothered you,” when Doyle let out a gasp as he tried to reach for Bodie with his wounded shoulder. The slim body hunched over in pain which immediately triggered Bodie’s instinct to protect and help the injured man. Within seconds, Doyle was on the settee, resting against the soft cushions, and Bodie was rushing to get water and trying to find his medicines.

Doyle’s eyes were still closed when Bodie returned with the needed medicine so the ex-merc had a few seconds to stare at the pale face of the man who had saved his life only a few days before. Bodie had come today to tell Doyle the truth, but looking at the exhausted man who had gone through a lot in the past six weeks, Bodie began to wonder if he should just walk away from Doyle and CI5.

Doyle’s voice expressed the pain that still gripped him as he swallowed the tablets. “Why are you here, Bodie?”

Bodie’s face took on the oft-seen expression of frustration. “I told you, sunshine; I wanted to bring you some goodies since I knew you were on sick leave. I also wanted to thank you for saving my life during the Balliol case.”

Doyle’s green eyes finally looked up and stared into the deep blue eyes that he had loved for so long. “Okay, you’ve told me thanks; you’ve done your duty . . . maybe a bit late, but it’s there. Is there anything else you want to say ‘cause I’m not feeling exactly up to par?”

Bodie had seen Doyle in many moods, both emotional and ice-cold, but the display he was getting right now was the most disturbing he had ever seen . . . it was one of not caring, of utter lack of interest in Bodie’s words. Had Bodie killed both their friendship and their partnership?

Bodie decided to take a chance and face the issue head-on. “Ray, do you hate me?”

A brief flame of something appeared in the green orbs, but Doyle said nothing for several minutes; then he seemed to gather all his strength to utter the most devastating question that he might ever have asked, “Do you really care?”

Bodie was stunned, had he so destroyed Doyle’s regard for him that he didn’t already know the answer to that question? Trying to calm his rising panic, he burst out a denial of the implications of the question. “Of course, I care. I panicked; I had just woke up and didn’t really comprehend the whole thing; I just opened my big mouth and spoke out. You’ve been known to do that a time or two, sunshine. I don’t want you to hate me; in fact, I was hopin’ you still wanted to be partners and maybe even friends.” Bodie had made this last statement with a voice filled with hope, but the look on Doyle’s face expressed a great deal of negativity in reaction to Bodie’s expressed hope.

“Friends, Bodie? Partners? I would say the names you called me that morning indicate a different feeling . . . a different assessment of our relationship. You were out of there like a bat out of hell. A partnership is based on trust; I would say that there is very little trust left in our friendship or partnership, and since you chose not to talk about it until now, I think it’s the partnership that you’re more worried about.”

Bodie’s handsome face suddenly took on a sneer. “Oh sure, sunshine, loadin’ this all up on me. If you had just kept your mouth shut, we’d be fine. We were gettin’ along great, until you asked that fool question.”

“AND IF YOU HAD WAITED, you would have heard me tell you that I didn’t mean it. I had dreamed about the Civil Partnership Act, and I was all mixed up with that. The question just slipped out; I was going to laugh it off, camp it up, but no you’re the one who put his big mouth in it, not me. There’s nothing good about realizing that the man you’ve trusted on the streets and had a relationship with for over five years, thinks that you’re a cunt and a fag. No, Bodie, I’ve learned a lot in the last six weeks. I felt a real connection with Peter Balliol besides the same looks. The man had to endure the loss of his lover due to fear; I guess I saw Balliol in me. Their relationship taught me a lot.”

“I’ll bet it did; did you sleep with Charles Bradley?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“That tells me all I need to know.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean? Bodie, I want you to get out of here; you’ve made your decision, and I’ve made mine, so please get the hell out of here.”

Bodie sneered on the outside, but he felt as if he were crumbling on the inside, “And could you please tell me what decision you’ve made?”

“I’m going to Cowley in a day or two and tell him that I’d like another partner.”

Bodie’s face shut down as he heard the news. “Don’t bother; I’ll tell him.”

“You don’t speak for me in this or anything else. You know you asked me if I slept with Charles Bradley, well I did only there wasn’t much sleeping. It was the night before I became Balliol; I had learned that he had been Balliol’s lover and that he was using me to compensate for his loss of Balliol due to his own stupidity. I was really angry, but we talked and talked. He was hurting as much as I was. That night we cuddled and talked. That’s something you and I never seemed to do. I should have told you that I wanted more, that sex wasn’t enough anymore, but I opened my mouth and put my foot in it. How wrong I was about you and me. I thought our friendship could stand anything, but now I know the truth.” Doyle paused, studying Bodie’s stricken face; then he uttered the question that had been on his mind for a long time, “Was it asking too much of you, Bodie to care enough about me that the idea of being with me in the future wouldn’t horrify you so much? 

Bodie’s heart fell. He had asked himself that question a number of times . . . not in that form but in the nature of contemplating commitment with someone, especially Ray. Ray Doyle had managed to slip through every barrier he had erected over the years, even the one about closeness, but commitment of any kind was the ghost that still haunted him. He had told Doyle about some of his past, at least some of the parts about his military years, but his early years had imprinted a pattern on him that was returning to haunt him, and it had popped up that awful morning when Bodie had lost the ability to hear a question and make a joke of it.

Hearing Doyle confess that he had slept with Charles Bradley had resurrected the jealousy that had hovered under Bodie’s skin since he had known the snarky golli. Maybe it was time to explain how badly damaged he was and why his alienation from Doyle was a real gift.

Sitting down near to Doyle, but not touching him, Bodie looked down at the floor for several moments; then, he raised his head and said in a hoarse whisper, “I told you that there was just me mum and I when I was growin’ up in Liverpool? Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She always had some man livin’ with her. She wasn’t on the street, but she was one of those women who needed a man and until I was fourteen, it was okay. Most of the men didn’t care much about me, but they were there and we were sort of a family. Me dad had run away years before and I felt that I could handle meself, but then one day a guy came to live at the house who found himself more attracted to me than me mum. Me mum didn’t notice, but I quickly figured the guy out. He was practically on me the first night there. He was never open about it, but he made it clear what he wanted.”

Bodie felt Doyle’s body tense and move closer to him as he told his story. He couldn’t look at Doyle because he knew he would never finish what he wanted to say. “Anyway, one day when I got home from school or maybe it was the street, who knows now, me mum wasn’t there, but he was. He caught me and tried to put it up me arse. He kept sayin’ that it wouldn’t hurt; it was just sex, and I’d like it. He said that he could tell that I was like that. I wasn’t stupid and didn’t want love like some women did. We could have a good time, and he’d even give me a bit of money. He kept repeatin’ over and over that it wasn’t love; it was just what men did with each other, and sex was the game that made a man a real man and not some romantic nonsense. I managed to get away, but he kept it up for months, saying the same thing. Then one night, me mum had to work late, and he came home from the pub, rarin’ for it. I fought back, but he had me arse bared ready to shove it up me when me mum walked in the door. There was a row like you wouldn’t believe.”

Doyle’s eyes spoke volumes about his feelings about Bodie’s words, but he only squeezed his forearm, but said nothing, just gesturing him to continue.

“Well, after a lot of screeching, yelling and things tossed, it came down to the old bastard blaming me for enticing him, and I felt the full brunt of both me mum’s and his wrath. I was the succubus who was lurin’ this innocent man to his doom and tryin’ to break up the happy home. Mum, told me to get out and within a few minutes, I was out of there and haven’t been back.”

“Was this when you went into the merchant navy?”

“Yeah, and that wasn’t any better. I guess I was what you called ‘pretty’ or something, and I attracted a lot of attention. I learned to play the game to get better conditions, but I did a lot of things I’m not too proud of, including offering up me arse.” Here Bodie snuck a peek at Doyle’s face to see how he was reacting to all the news, but Doyle’s face seemed neutral and not radiating indignation at him.

“I kept hearing the same thing; me arse was made for sex; I was made for sex, and then when I got to Africa I found out what the GAME really was. Love wasn’t in the books. I told you about the girl that Krivas shot?” Doyle nodded but said nothing. “I know I told you I really loved her. I told you about Marikka and how I felt about her. Well, I don’t know how to love, Ray, so I guess I was lyin’ to you. Love is an emotion that I don’t understand or can really feel. That’s why I slept in your bed and needed your body all those years when things would go bad.. I needed release and you were so wonderful to be near. You’re the only one who has got through some of me barriers, but when you asked about marriage, it really threw me, and you know what happened. I’m sorry for what I said to you. You’ve been the best partner that I’ve ever known. I know I hurt you, and that’s the last thing that I wanted to do, but you won’t have to put up with me much longer. My contract’s up in four months. I’ve been thinkin’ about leavin’ anyway, been here long enough as it is. If you could just put up with me for four more months, then I’d be out of your hair.”

“What’re you talkin’ about Bodie?”

“I guess I didn’t make meself plain. I’m plannin’ on resignin’ in four months, and I’d like us to be partners for that much time, if you can stand to have me around. Just partners, if that’s okay; I’m not askin’ for anything else.”

“That’s crazy, that is. You’re runnin’ away again; just like you did when you were fourteen. Well, you aren’t fourteen anymore. You’re the best partner I ever had and you’ve been me best mate. I was goin’ to Cowley because I thought you didn’t want me anymore. Well, I can live with just a partnership if that’s what you want, but can you just walk away from six good years with CI5? Isn’t that important to you anymore?”

Bodie bowed his head and shook it slightly as if he were amazed at Doyle’s naïveté. “Sunshine, there is only one thing in this world that is important to me and that’s you. At one time, I thought it was Cowley, but there have been too many Operation Susies and too many questions to give him my best loyalty now, but you’ve never failed me. You’re the most important person in the world to me, and yet look how I treated you, what I called you? I’m damaged, Doyle, and I know it, and I don’t what it to hurt you anymore. Just give me these next four months, and I’ll be gone. I know you want more than I can give you. If that’s not what you want then I’m sure Cowley will let me work solo for four months.”

Doyle sat up straight, staring at the man that he had dreams about being with forever, and now that world was down to four months. Should he seize those four months and make of it what he could, or should he tell Bodie to take a hike now so that Doyle’s heart wouldn’t be broken anymore than it was now? Bodie practically told him that he never could love him so why didn’t he run away from the partnership just the way Bodie was planning to do? Doyle closed his eyes and imagined the future with no Bodie in it. Even four months was better than nothing. Maybe . . . just maybe something would happen which would change the stubborn ex-merc’s mind. The question was did Ray really want Bodie under such circumstances? Doyle had thought he had made up his mind about a new partner, but the future took on a new aura with the possibility of only four months of Bodie’s presence left. Doyle still felt extremely hurt by Bodie’s attitude and his words, but he would survive. He always had, and who knew what would happen in the next 120 days?

“All right, Bodie. We’ll do it your way for the next four months. We’re partners and nothing else. Maybe we can be friends again, but six years ago we forged a good partnership without all the extra attachments, so let’s tell Cowley that we want to be partners again and then see what happens.”


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER NINE

The first month counted down very quickly. Cowley had quickly agreed with the new arrangements for CI5’s most successful team. Cowley had not been thrilled when he had heard about Bodie’s plans, but George Cowley had known both men for more than six years, and he had great faith in 4.5’s powers of persuasion. These two men had survived trauma that would have made any other team break apart into a thousand tiny pieces, but these two men had a special relationship and Cowley hoped that they could work their magic again. The real obstacle was: did 4.5 really want to put the relationship back together again? Whatever Bodie had said or done or both had badly shattered the two men’s regard for each other. Bodie had destroyed more with his words and actions than Humpty Dumpty’s fall had ever done to the embryo.

While the teamwork between Bodie and Doyle was still superior to any other CI5 team, the other mainstays of the relationship were obviously missing. The banter was gone; their after hour visits to each other’s flats were gone; even double-dating ceased. Bodie and Doyle were the epitome of professionals, but they weren’t friends, and there certainly was no more gossip about any sexual relationship that the two men might have enjoyed. Cowley found himself sighing more and more when he looked at the completed reports that the two men had generated for whatever op they had been on. Where once these reports had been clearly generated from a team of men who thought and acted alike, now the reports were written from two different individuals’ points of view. The fact that Bodie would be leaving in just a few months had not yet seemed to have motivated the two stubborn men to work out their differences. More than once, George Cowley had asked himself about what might have been said by the two men to each other that would have so badly ripped their friendship asunder?

It had been a long day for Ray Doyle. There had been a shooting; a hostage situation, and numerous reports. These were the kind of days that normally he and his partner would have spent together, maybe with takeaway and lager, watching the box and making ribald remarks about some film or something, but those halcyon days were long gone in the aftermath of Doyle’s idiot question, and Bodie’s still hurtful words.

At the end of each day for the last month, Bodie had gone his way, leaving Doyle to go to his own flat. Doyle had tried dating some birds over the last thirty days, but they had all been fiascos. Each time he had left a woman’s bed, he had compared it to the sex that he had had with Bodie. Doyle knew it wasn’t fair, but even though it was just sex, it had been better with Bodie than anyone else. Why had Doyle blown the whole thing with his idiot question; why hadn’t he, at least, worded it differently? Why couldn’t he have asked, “Would you be willing to marry me?” or something like that so Bodie could pretend to think about it and then turn him down. They could have worked that out, but no, Ray Doyle has to make it a full-blown proposal and place the onus straight on Bodie’s shoulders. Bodie, the man who ran from commitment faster than a man chased by an angry set of bees, had been put in an impossible position, and then the Peter Balliol case had further alienated the situation. What were the odds of the Civil Partnership Act playing such a vital role in the lives of four men? Doyle sighed for the hundredth time and was about ready to flop on the settee when the phone rang.

“Doyle.”

“Ray, it’s Charles Bradley, how are you?”

“Just great; good to hear from you.”

“I hope you don’t mind me using the phone number that you gave me, but I wanted to let you know that Peter and I have . . . well, we’ve got back together again, and in about a month we’re going to tie the knot, so to speak. We’re going to have a civil partnership ceremony and we’d love to have you there. If you’re interested, I’ll send you all the information. It will be very informal and rather small, but you are very special to Peter and me, and we would really like to have you there.”

“Well, I’d love to be there, but wouldn’t that cause a bit of a problem, what with my face and all?”

“Peter and I thought about that; we figured you could disguise yourself just slightly so that you didn’t look so much like Peter and then we could tell anyone who asks that you’re a distant cousin or something. What do you think about that?”

“Sounds good; I’ll think about what I can do to make myself look less like a Balliol. I’m sure glad that you two got together. How is Mr. Balliol?”

“He’s great. I’m so lucky that he forgave me. We talked and talked as he was recovering, and I quickly realized that he’s more important to me than my reputation or what other people think of me. I’m a very lucky man.”

Doyle smiled sadly, but quickly agreed with the statement. He was just about ready to end the call with the reminder, “Well, be sure to send the info about the ceremony, and I’ll make arrangements to be there. I’m sure Cowley won’t object.” 

He was unable to finish because Bradley interrupted by saying, “George is going to be at the ceremony so I wouldn’t think that he would be too upset.”

“Cowley’s going to be there? Good for him!”

“Yes, he said, he is our friend and he definitely wanted to be there. After all it is the law of the land, and he stands for the law of the land.”

“Sounds like the Cow.” Both men laughed as the oft-used title was said by Doyle.

Then the line went quiet for a few seconds as if Charles Bradley was trying to gather up his courage. Doyle knew that this was a man who had faced criminals and life-threatening situations in the cases he dealt with so his hesitancy must have some formidable reason. Doyle waited a few more seconds then asked, “Charles, is there something wrong?”

“Ray, have you and Bodie ironed out your differences?”

“We’re working as partners again.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“No, to tell you the truth, we haven’t. We’re working together, but the friendship is on hold, and certainly anything beyond that is non-existent. Bodie says he’s leaving CI5 in three months so I suppose this is just a holding action.”

“Oh, Ray, I’m so sorry. He isn’t leaving because of us . . . I mean you and me, is he? He does know that we slept together, doesn’t he?”

“Now how did you know that?”

“You’re a remarkably honest man; I figured that might have come out in your talks.”

“Yeah, he asked me, and I wasn’t ashamed of what we did. Does Peter know?”

Doyle could hear the smile in the voice on the phone, “Yes, I can’t keep anything a secret from him.”

“Is he . . . is he okay with it?”

“Yes, he told me that during that year that we were apart, he had slept with a few others, and he didn’t expect me to remain celibate. When I told him that it was you, he understood completely.”

“So what’s the problem, if everybody knows?”

“Nothing, except Peter and I would like Bodie at the ceremony as well. Do you think he would come?”

“I can’t speak for him, but why don’t you send him an invitation and see what he says.”

“Great. I’ll get his address and post something right away. Thanks so much and we’re both anxious to see you. Take care, Ray.”

Doyle put down the receiver, but stared at the instrument for a long time. He doubted that Bodie would want to attend the ceremony, but Doyle admitted freely that he no longer understood William Bodie. In fact, he was no longer sure that he had ever understood him. Looking up at the calendar where he had each of the 120 days outlined, Doyle sighed and went to cross out one more day of Bodie’s tenure in his life.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER TEN

William Bodie stood staring at the invitation to the simple partnership ceremony. He admired the two men that he had got to know in previous weeks. Of course, he knew Balliol better, but he was still glad for them. Considering their vocations, it was remarkable that they were going to have the ceremony, but they were special and it had been quite evident that they loved each other very much. Bodie put off the decision about going because a month was a long time yet, and he wasn’t sure if he would be busy what with Cowley seeming to find op after op for them to do. Maybe he’s trying to get his money worth’s out of me, before I leave. The mere thought that he would be leaving in a little over two months brought flip-flops to his stomach. He had had those same flip-flops when he had arrived at CI5, but it all had worked out, thanks to Cowley’s tolerance and eventually Doyle’s acceptance of the small amount of his past that he had revealed. But now we’re further away from each other than even when we first worked together, and most of it is my fault, but it’s Doyle who set the parameters this time.

Bodie sighed, his whole body seeming to shiver as he recalled the hostility and one-upsmanship that had pervaded their partnership in its early months. Gradually  
it had got better, but the trust hadn’t come easily. Doyle’s remark that he was no better than Krivas when the two ex-mercs had faced off against each, had rankled, but he couldn’t really fault Doyle for his thinking, after all hadn’t Bodie recently hinted to Doyle that all he wanted him for was sex.? The Golli’s eyes sent messages galore and Bodie would never forget the look in Doyle’s face when he had lost his control over Doyle’s question. Good thing I’m gettin’ out of here; done enough to hurt Ray.

Although Ray Doyle had received a phone invitation, his formal invitation arrived within a few days, he immediately RSVP’d the invite and began to wonder two things: what should he get Bradley and Balliol, and if Bodie would be there?  
Doyle knew that Bodie was uncomfortable with many “sexual” situations, and obviously he had made it perfectly plain how he felt about the idea of two gays involved in a civil partnership, but there was more to Bodie than that. Hadn’t he conquered some of his racist feelings after his knifing in Black Town?

Doyle sighed and looked at the calendar which was ever gaining more large X’s through the rapidly disappearing days. He and Bodie acted like strangers as soon as the time of each op was over. No meetings in the pub, no watching the telly, no takeaway, no squash matches. In fact, everything between the two men seemed to be “no” now days, and Doyle knew that he was as much responsible for that as was Bodie. Doyle kept telling himself that he was at fault for asking such a stupid question, but Bodie’s insulting, hostile reaction was over-the-top. When Bodie had told him about how he had been treated, Doyle began to understand, but Bodie usually refused any comfort and consolation, and this time Doyle’s wounds from the tongue-lashing he had received were still too raw for him to be the only one who tried to resolve the situation. More and more Doyle felt that Bodie was actually using Doyle’s gaff par excellence as an excuse to actually leave CI5 and him.

ONE MONTH LATER

William Bodie walked into the building where the civil ceremony for Charles Bradley, QC, and Dr. Peter Balliol would take place in a few minutes. Bodie had put the decision off to the last second, hoping that Cowley would find him some work to do, but when the Cow had informed him that he was planning to go as well, it seemed that he had no other choice, especially since he had found out that the other seven agents on the Balliol case were going to be there. He had purchased a nice neutral present and hoped that he could leave rather quickly. Whatever was being planned for the reception was really not on his agenda.

As Bodie headed towards the indicated room, he saw Peter Balliol heading towards him. Balliol was smiling and it seemed the weight of the world had been removed after all those weeks under an assassin’s threat. 

“Ah, Bodie, so good to see you.” Shaking each other’s hand, Balliol continued, “Why don’t you come with me; we have some time yet and I would like to talk to you for just a moment if it’s all right with you?”

Looking at his watch (he had stopped wearing Superman because it hurt too much but Bodie couldn’t understand why), Bodie noticed that the ceremony would be in less than fifteen minutes so his uncontrolled left eyebrow shot up as he questioned, “Do we really have time?”

Balliol’s handsome face took on a look of guilt as he took a step back and then looked up defiantly and said, “Well, actually Charles and I fudged on the time of the ceremony on your invitation. We wanted to talk to you a bit before the whole thing begins, hope you aren’t upset?”

For a moment anger rose in the depths of Bodie’s blue eyes, but then a twinkle entered them as he responded, “Well, actually shouldn’t I, as your guardian, talk to you about the responsibilities and problems of entering into such a relationship? I feel as if I should be asking you and Mr. Bradley are your intentions honourable towards each other and all that sort of thing.”

Peter Balliol let out a belly laugh as he saw the point of Bodie’s remarks. “Follow me, please, there’s a quiet room just over there, and you are right . . . that’s just what I want to talk about . . . intentions. Hope that doesn’t sound too bad.”

For a moment Bodie felt like turning and running, but he continued to follow Balliol. He didn’t know either of the two men that well, but he certainly could read between the lines and he knew that a certain MP and a QC were famed for their interrogation skills, so this wasn’t going to be fun.

Strangely, enough when they entered the room, Charles Bradley was not there. Balliol’s look had a brief moment of consternation and then he pulled himself together and said, “Sit down, Bodie. It looks like my better half isn’t finished with his business yet. Would you like something to drink?”

Bodie almost refused then he changed his mind; a drink might be one way of occupying his time and diverting some of the forthcoming questions. “Yes, please,” he said, Scotch would be great.”

Balliol nodded and smiled, “So George has made a convert out of you, has he?”

“Yes, did he drink Scotch while you were in MI?”

Balliol’s green eyes began to twinkle as they showed Balliol’s comprehension of what Bodie was trying to do. He decided to play along with him, for a moment. “Yes, we were relatively young then and George introduced us to the joys and aromas of really good scotch malt liquor. Those were the days!” Bodie smiled, but then his face fell as Balliol continued, “But it’s not me or Charles that I wanted to talk about; it’s you and Doyle.”

Bodie’s dark eyes turned even darker and seemed to glaze over with frost, but Peter Balliol had been trained in interrogation in the halls of Parliament and in the trenches of George Cowley’s Military Intelligence group. He could truly play with the big boys and he wasn’t intimidated at all. “Do you mind if I ask you two personal questions? You can always tell me to mind my own business, but you are very polite and I suspect you won’t.”

“Go right ahead and ask, I may not answer.”

“Ta, do you love Ray Doyle?”

Bodie’s shoulders slumped as he realized the MP was going right for the jugular. He was about to refuse to answer when he looked in the green orbs that reminded him of Ray’s. Suddenly, he couldn’t face prevaricating again. Taking a deep breath, he answered clearly, “Yes.”

Balliol didn’t react but his head seemed to nod. “All right, now what are you going to do about it?”

This was easier for Bodie. He had worked that much out. “Nothing, I’m leaving CI5 in just over a month, and we won’t be seeing each other again.”

Now consternation showed in the handsome face that was so similar to his golli’s. “Do you think that Ray loves you?”

“I’m not sure, but I suspect that that is what led to the argument that we had while we were working on your case.”

“I see. You know you remind me a great deal of Charles. He was raised in a rich family who were accustomed to getting what they want and being leaders. That’s one of the reasons that it scared him so much when the concept of civil partnership came along. He didn’t think that he could come out of the closet and stand in front of God and everybody and admit that he was gay and loved another man.” Balliol stopped suddenly as he noticed how pale Bodie had become. In fact, the man looked as if he were going to pass out. “Bodie, is something wrong; do you need a doctor?”

Bodie shook his head as if trying to clear it. Removing his handkerchief, he wiped his face and took a sip of the really delicious scotch. That seemed to settle himself down and he quickly mumbled, “No, no, I’m all right.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t understand that.”

Bodie raised his head and spoke more calmly, “I’m fine now; just had a short case of the vapours.” The ex-merc tried to smile at the phrase but found that he couldn’t quite pull it off.

“I see, well, I’m sorry if my questions have upset you, but Charles and I feel close to you and Ray; after all you both risked your lives for me, so we wanted to talk to you. I just wanted you to know that if there’s anything we can do to help, we would be glad to do it.”

Strangely enough, Bodie felt privileged to have earned the concern of these two men. Every time he looked at Balliol, he saw the bleeding Doyle in the corridor of the Parliament building; then he remembered Doyle’s stricken face that morning that Bodie had insulted him and destroyed their friendship. Bodie knew that he could trust Balliol, but what could he say?

Balliol’s smile was so much like Ray’s. He studied the ex-merc’s face and seemed to be able to read his emotions rather well. He seemed to hesitate then continued, “You know that Charles ran away from me because I was pushing him about a civil partnership; it kept us apart for more than a year, and it was a year of hell. Charles and I just don’t want you two to go through the same thing if we can help. Ray loves you; of that, I am absolutely certain, but I suspect you have some heavy burdens on your shoulders that are keeping you from making any decisions so you are running away instead. I can’t stop you from whatever you decide, but take the time to think about your future. You have many choices open to you, but I would say that the most important would be, “Can you live without Ray in your life?”

Bodie’s dark eyes got even darker as he thought about those words; then he replied, “Ray Doyle will be lucky to get rid of me. I called him a fag, and a cunt, and told him that I couldn’t love. My past isn’t anything I want to inflict on Ray, and what it’s done to me now, isn’t good. He can do better, and that’s the way I want to leave it.”

“Is it, I wonder? Did Ray tell you that he didn’t want you in his life? Your partners again, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but just until my contract runs out. He said he didn’t want to be my friend any longer, and he certainly didn’t want anymore sex.” Bodie’s pale face seemed to blush slightly, but he stared defiantly into the Doyle doppelganger’s face.

“You know Charles and I were friends for quite awhile; we had our short military careers to get to know each other, but I went ahead and married. That kept us apart for quite awhile until I committed adultery and started taking Charles to bed. That was a life I didn’t especially enjoy, but I needed Charles in my life. I guess the thing that you’re going to have to do is face the very real question: how much do I need Ray Doyle in my life?”

“He’ll be better without me.”

Balliol sighed noticeably then with a grim face said, “If you just knew how many times, people say that to justify their own cowardice. I hunkered down and said that I would never see Charles Bradley again because I just knew trying to get back together with him would destroy his career, and his career was the important thing in the world to him. Well, I was wrong. When I was in hospital, Charles came to see me, and we talked then and after I got out. He told me that when he heard that I had been threatened and then heard about my bumped head, he realized that nothing was more important than I was to him. From that moment on, we were able to talk and work out our problems. Don’t you think that Ray deserves to have the same chance? After all, you’ll be leaving him out on the streets alone, won’t you?”

Bodie sat as if he were thinking about Balliol’s recent words then he nodded. “I guess I have been pretty selfish. I’ve been that way all my life. Things that happened in my past helped build walls that only Doyle has been able to penetrate; then, when this all happened, I slammed the walls in place again, and have even kept Ray out. Maybe, I ought to let him tell me what he thinks before I leave. Guarding his back has been my main goal for so long, I . . . I just don’t really know.”

Balliol smiled. Well, at least, that’s a start. “Charles and I genuinely want you two to be happy. You are pretty special to us. Now I see that’s it’s really getting to be time to get ready for all the others to arrive, so why don’t I let you go and I’ll go find out what’s happened to my wandering boy.”

Bodie held out his hand and replied, “Oh, I don’t think he’s wandering too far. Thank you for being so concerned about Ray and me. I’ll see you two later.”

“I hope we see you at the reception. Take care, Bodie.”

The two men split up with Balliol looking for his partner and Bodie looking for the w/c. He had lots of ideas in his head and he needed to splash his face if he was going to get through this day.

Peter Balliol began to wander through the building when he saw Charles Bradley heading towards him. Smiling he waited for the man to come stand next to him. “Well, I guess you met our other target, did you? When you didn’t show up to talk to Bodie, I figured that’s what must have happened.”

“Yes, he showed up just as I was getting ready to meet you. He had a lot of very interesting things to say.”

“Where is he now?”

“I’m not quite sure; I told him about the room where we’ll sign the documents, but he might have headed to the w/c.”

“Well, we have a few minutes; tell me what happened.”

“Did you know that Bodie’s leaving CI5?

“Yeah, he mentioned it to me, right after he told me that he loved Doyle.”

“What? He actually said that?”

“Yeah, but then I asked him what he was going to do about it, and that’s when he told me that he was doing nothing because he was going to leave CI5.”

“That’s not good, but no wonder Ray thinks that their former relationship was just about sex. If Bodie is willing to run out on the guy that he loves, maybe it’s better that he does before he breaks Doyle’s heart again.”

Peter Balliol stood very still staring in to Charles Bradley’s dark eyes. Suddenly, Bradley realized what he had said, “Sorry, love. That was a stupid thing to say.”

“Very, but I won’t hold it against you. After you saw the light and realized how you felt, you came through. Maybe Bodie will do the same thing.”

“I don’t know; Bodie can be pretty stubborn, but right now it seems as if Bodie is not willing to speak up for his feelings and Doyle’s not willing to stick his neck out again after taken the knocks from the guy he’s loved all these years.”

“You’re sure Doyle loves Bodie?”

“Definitely, I told him that I was sure Bodie loved him, and you should have seen the look on his face. He doesn’t believe it, and I guess I can’t blame him. It’s up to Bodie now.”

“Well, we’ve done about as much as we can. Let’s just hope the two men come to their senses in the next month. Come on, lover, it’s time for us to get hitched.”

“What a silver tongue, you have.”

Putting his arm around Charles Bradley’s shoulders, Peter Balliol smiled and whispered in a low voice only meant for the man he loved, “I’ll show you what kind of tongue I have . . . later. Now let’s get to the proceedings.”

After his interrogation by Charles Bradley, Ray Doyle headed towards the w/c. He felt absolutely drained after being questioned by Bradley. Doyle knew that Bradley was asking the questions for his own good, but heavens that man could get a job with CI5 anytime, especially with an interrogation technique like that. Smiling as he remembered some of the discussion, Doyle stopped down the corridor from the w/c. Bodie was just going into the loo. Doyle was extremely surprised to see his partner there in the first place, and then the look on the ex-merc’s face reminded him a great deal of his own. I’ll bet somebody just put him through the wringer . . . I’ll bet I know who.

Raymond Doyle was a master of double-think so he immediately figured out what had been going on for the last hour, but he also admitted that at this moment, he was a coward, and instead of going into the loo, he turned around and headed towards where the ceremony would be held.

Knowing that Bodie was there put Doyle on edge, but the two men signed the important documents and said their words and everything went well. Peter Balliol immediately invited everyone who had attended to come to the reception being held at their apartment so Doyle was able to avoid his partner once again.

The reception as well as the ceremony had been well-guarded. The fact that civil partnership joinings had now been around for several months had seemed to cool the ardour of many protesters, but it had been feared that since a MP was involved that there could be problems. Fortunately, no protester dared ruin the situation with George Cowley and more than ten of his agents in attendance. There was drinking and lots of food at the reception and the newly legal partners made sure that everyone had a good time.

Doyle successfully managed to avoid Bodie. It was really strange that a man who was so reluctant to announce his feelings to the world would show up - - not only at the partnership ceremony but at the reception of two homosexuals. Doyle managed to find a fairly hidden place in the luxurious apartment so that he could study Bodie without being seen himself. Bodie seemed perfectly relaxed and quite able to mix with everyone at the reception. Maybe, he figured that if Cowley could be there, he wasn’t risking himself too much. Nevertheless, Bodie’s presence bothered him. This was the man who only a few short weeks ago had called him some insulting names. 

Suddenly, in his mind, he heard a song that he had heard on the radio not long ago. It was an American song, popular many years before and was being used in a retrospective of popular songs from the cinema. The words spoke to him of Bodie and his relationship to the man:

It’s always like this  
I worry and wonder  
You’re close to me here  
But where is your heart?  
It’s a sad thing to realize  
That you’ve a heart that never melts.**

Doyle’s body filled with despair. In a little more than a month, he would lose Bodie. Charles Bradley had tried to convince him that Bodie loved him, but Doyle had to be honest with himself. Bodie had shown none of that love and the sex that they had had the last time they were together had shown no love at all. It was time for Raymond Doyle to look ahead to his own future. Charles had mentioned a security company that he should look into. After all he was going to be 40 years old and soon would have no Bodie to back him up. Doyle looked at his watch; he had been here long enough.

After more than two hours “in disguise”, Doyle was getting extremely tired of wearing the light make-up, so after saying his good-byes to the “newlyweds” and Cowley, he headed for the exit. Suddenly, a well-loved voice behind him spoke, “Hello, sunshine.”

Doyle turned slowly; his green eyes wide open with surprise. “’Lo, Bodie. You look kind of the worse for wear.”

“Ta, been celebrating a bit too much. Good thing I didn’t drive.”

“How’d you get here?”

“Came with Father, but now he’s dumping me so he can have a reunion with his MI compatriots who showed up for the doings. Just my luck; always being dumped for someone else.”

For a moment, Doyle stared at the slightly inebriated man, his green eyes reflecting his wariness at being so close to the man who had hurt him so badly. “Can I call you a taxi?”

Bodie suddenly giggled and let forth with a burst of breath as he said, “Rather you’d call me, Bodie.”

Doyle’s eyebrows shot up as he realized that his partner was very near to the edge. He didn’t dare let Cowley see one of his agents in such a state so he decided to make the ultimate sacrifice, “Uh, would you like me to drive you home . . . I mean if you’re going home?”

“That would be very kind of you,” Bodie replied making a real effort to be formal and precise in his response.

“Have you said your farewell to our hosts?”

“Don’t dare while they’re standing with Cowley. One breath sprayed on them, and I’ll be on suspension for a long time.” Bodie hesitated and seemed to be thinking and then popped up with, “’Course since I’ll be leavin’ in a month, what the hell do I care?”

Doyle knew that he had to get Bodie out of there right away. Spotting Murphy, he asked 6.2 to speak to their hosts and tell them that Bodie was leaving. Murphy took one look at Bodie and nodded his agreement.

Doyle had his hands full with Bodie so he failed to see Murphy deliver the message or the smile on the hosts’ faces.

Carefully, the two men made their way to Doyle’s car and within a few minutes Doyle and Bodie were parked in front of Bodie’s flat. Bodie had been very quiet during the drive for which Doyle was extremely grateful because he didn’t think he could put up with a mouthy, drunken Bodie right then. Doyle began to get out of the car to help his slightly tipsy partner when Bodie seemed to return to consciousness by saying, “Are we here yet?”

¬¬___________  
**Excerpt from The Theme from Moulin Rouge. Lyrics by William Engvick, and Music by Georges Aurie.

Doyle helped the slightly swaying ex-merc to the door and got his key from him. It had been the custom of the partners to exchange keys but Doyle had returned his key to Bodie soon after their break-up, and he had refused to ask for it to be returned.

 

Doyle finally managed to get the tall, muscular man into the flat and sitting on the settee. He quickly announced, “I’ll make some coffee. You relax. I can’t believe you let yourself get in such a condition.” Then Doyle started towards the kitchen.

He stopped and whirled as he heard a perfectly sober, serious voice say,

“I didn’t.”

For a moment, Doyle couldn’t focus on the man, sitting on the settee. Bodie was now sitting straight, almost at military attention, pulling his tie into military precision and his face showing deadly seriousness. “I didn’t, Ray.”

“You . . . you faked being drunk?” Doyle was barely keeping his anger under control as he added, “Why?”

Suddenly Bodie looked like a shamed little boy as he muttered, “Wanted an excuse to talk to you. Thought you’d feel sorry for me if I wasn’t exactly sober. It worked didn’t it?”

Doyle said nothing but his green eyes seemed to shoot flames from them. “You’re a real bastard, William Andrew Philip. Well, you can make your own coffee, or stick it up you or whatever. I’m out of here.”

“Please Ray, give me a chance. Just five minutes and then I’ll leave.”

“We see each other every day and will for THE NEXT MONTH why couldn’t you have said it on our partnership time?” The emphasis on the amount of time left before Bodie took a hike made it clear that Doyle was badly upset about more than just Bodie’s pretence at being drunk.

“’Cause what I want to say needs privacy and can’t be hurried. Please, Ray, won’t you sit down and listen to what I have to say?”

Doyle’s reluctance was obvious, but he slowly wandered over to the settee and took a seat at the far end. “Okay, your five minutes start now.”

Suddenly, Bodie didn’t know what to say so he fell back on that time held method of diversion, “Did you come early to the ceremony and have a talk with Charles “Peter Balliol talked to me. He said a lot of things that made sense, but most importantly that I would be leaving you alone on the street. You’re the most important person in the world to me. I should have told you that a long time ago, but

“How did you know that? And what’s that got to do with what you want to talk about?”

“Peter Balliol talked to me. He said a lot of things that made sense, but most importantly that I would be leaving you alone on the street. You’re the most important person in the world to me. I should have told you that a long time ago, but when he said that to my face, I realized . . . I guess maybe for the first time that I was looking out for myself, and it should be you that I’m concerned about. What are you thinkin’ of doin’ when I leave?”

Now Doyle was really confused. Bodie is worried about what I’m going to do without him? Does he think that I’m such a moron that I can’t function without him?

Doyle’s green eyes took on more frost and his demeanour took on an attitude of extreme frustration, but he decided to hold his anger and answer. After all the dumb crud had already used up one minute. “Well, as a matter of fact, I’ve already gone into talk to Cowley, and he suggested that I partner up with Farrell after you leave.”

“Farrell! What is Cowley thinking of; he can barely tie his shoe laces. He’ll have you in hospital or worse in the first week!”

Doyle’s ears were still ringing from the ex-merc’s immediately reaction to his news. Doyle had spent the last six years teasing and provoking his partner, and he was a master at it, but seldom had he ever got results like that before. Maybe this was worth exploring? “Yeah, he said Farrell was a possibility since the man hadn’t quite measured up to expectations yet, and I could, well sort of, take him under my wing and help him along.”

“Help him along? You have got to be kidding! I won’t have it. You’ll tell that stingy, short-sighted, devious old bastard that he’s not playing around with your life.”

Doyle’s face took on the most innocent and forgiving expression it could. “But Bodie, you weren’t perfect when you first started with the mob; remember how I had to help you?”

“Help me? What are you saying? I was perfect even then. It was my ex-copper partner that had to be shown the ropes. You raving little sod. You know better than . . .” Suddenly Bodie stopped and took a good look at the twinkle in the gorgeous green orbs that stared back at him. “You bastard . . . I ought to thump you. Here I am concerned about your future, and yet you’re making things up.”

Now Doyle’s Irish temper began to heat up, “You’re concerned about my future, are you. That bull shite, mister, you’re runnin’ out on me, why? Just tell me why?”

“I thought it would be for the best, especially for you. I called you some awful names, and you don’t even want us to be friends anymore. You’ve learned some pretty hard things about me past, and I figured that it was time for me to be movin’ on. It’s tough for me to give love, and I know you want more than I’ve given you in our relationship, so I figure you’re well rid of me.”

Doyle could see the despair in the deep blue eyes. He knew that Bodie was hurtin’ and suddenly he could answer the question in the song that he had been thinking of: where was Bodie’s heart - - it was sitting right here in front of him, open, raw, and bleeding from its wounds. Doyle was confused. For six years Bodie had made it a regular routine to let everyone know that commitment was not what he wanted. He kept his cool, and had thrown up barriers that would withstand a full cannon blast, but now Bodie was acting strangely. Just what had he said to Peter Balliol and even more important what had Balliol said to him?

“Bodie, what’s going on? What do you want from me? Have you heard me complain? Of course, I want more than just having sex with you, but you made it plain that there were parameters to our relationship, and I’m the one who tried to cross the line. We’ve made it through these last three months of partnership, and it hasn’t been bad, but in one month you’ll walk out on me so I have to protect myself. To tell you the truth, I’ve been thinking a lot about my future. I’ll be 40 in the very near future. I talked to Cowley and Charles Bradley about the future and both men mentioned me going into security. It’s not the safest job in the world, but it’s got to give me a better chance of making it to old age than the mob gives me. The real trouble is can I make it until 40 or should I quit when my contract is up like you’re doin’?”

“You talked to the Cow and Bradley about this and not me, that’s really rich - - after all, I’m only your partner.”

Doyle stared at Bordie in disbelief, Bodie had preached no commitment for the last six years and now he expected Doyle to talk over every decision that the ex-copper was going to make, who did the bastard think he was? Doyle’s Irish fury rose rapidly through his body so quickly that his next blast was out of his mouth before he had a chance to put a guard on it. “How come I have to talk things over with you when you decided to get the hell out of CI5 without a by-your-leave? I guess I count so little with you that you don’t need to talk to me about your decisions or our future together.” Doyle had to stop there because he was virtually panting and his breathing was really struggling.

“I made the decision to leave when we weren’t working together; you know that. Besides, I was doing it for your own good.”

“Well, thank you very much for thinking so much of me that you pull me heart right out of me chest with a well-chosen words and then totally ignore me for over a month. With that kind of helpin’ me for my own good, I can very well do without. I think this bull shite has gone far enough. I’m outta here. You’ve used up your five minutes and a lot more of my life than I can really stand right now.”

Once again, Bodie’s body blocked Doyle’s way. “Please, Ray. Just let me tell you one more thing, please.”

Doyle stood there like a bantum rooster. Suddenly, he struck out with a right hook that felled his partner so forcefully that Bodie swore later that he saw stars. Finding himself on the floor, he looked up at the pugnacious man who he expected to see going out the door, but instead the slender body was standing there . . . waiting. Bodie immediately wondered if he was waiting to deck him again so he stayed where he was and asked, “What was that for?”

“For all the hurt you’ve caused me in the last few months.” Reaching out his hand to help Bodie up, Doyle stuck out his chin and said, “Now you can thump me for being such a dolt as to ask you to marry me.”

Bodie stood looking at the slightly shorter man then leaned down and kissed the most kissable lips in all of Great Britain. Doyle stood there stunned for several seconds then blurted out, “You kissed me!” 

Leaning over and kissing the lips again, Bodie replied, “That’s my Doyle; always perceptive and silver-tongued in any situation.”

Practically sputtering, Doyle blurted out again, “But . . . but you never kiss . . . you never kiss. Are you the real WAP Bodie or has he been abducted by aliens?”

“It’s me, sunshine. Want me to prove it?”

“And how would you be doin’ that?”

“How about that heart-shaped birth mark you’ve got on your cheek?”

Touching his face, Doyle started to say that he didn’t have a birthmark on his cheek when he realized what Bodie had meant. Until that moment Doyle’s face had been extremely wary and worn, now an endearing smile crossed the handsome face. “Guess, you’re my dumb crud of a partner, but why’d you kiss me?”

“’Cause I’ve been wantin’ to do that for a long time; seemed like as good as time as any.”

“Now I know you’re not Bodie; Bodie doesn’t like to kiss or cuddle or . . . well, a lot of other things.”

“Will you please sit that gorgeous arse down so I can tell you a few things?”

Once again Doyle’s eyes showed a great deal of wariness, but he did as Bodie asked and sat down as far from his partner as possible. “All right, what do you want to tell me?”

“Do you have to sit so far away; I fell like I have to shout to Antarctica.”

“Some more of your blarney, but all right, I’ll compromise.” Doyle’s compromise was a six inch move towards Bodie then he crossed his chest with his slender arms, put on a pugnacious face and said, “All right, let’s hear it.”

For a moment Bodie dropped his head, but finally he raised his deeply blue eyes and said in a whisper, “Balliol asked me if I loved you.”

Doyle said nothing, but there was a change in the expression in the green eyes, a change that Bodie wasn’t sure that he liked. Bodie hesitated for a moment then went on, “I said I did.”

Doyle sat sit for a few seconds, confusion crisscrossing his face; then he stood up and headed towards the door. As he reached the door, he whirled around and spat out, “Damn you, Bodie. Damn you to hell. I should have known that you were just mocking me, getting back at me for asking you to marry me. I don’t need this. I don’t need you.”

Suddenly, Bodie saw stars and anger, Doyle infuriated him some times. Where had all the trust gone to that the stupid crud couldn’t tell when Bodie was telling the truth? Standing quickly, Bodie blurted out, “You’re a fine one to talk; that morning I was about ready to apologize to you for raping you and you come out and mock me, gettin’ your own back for how I treated you. I don’t blame you for hatein’ me, but you askin’ me to marry you was goin’ too far. It’s no wonder I mouthed off. I’m tryin’ to tell you that I love you and you throw it in my face.”

For several seconds, Doyle stood starin’ as the maniac who was practically rantin’ in his face. What was this idiot mouthin’ off about? What rape? Doyle’s previous anger died in his mouth as he tried to work out in his mind what Bodie was talking about. Finally, ignoring the rest of Bodie’s words, Doyle asked, “What rape you talkin’ you stupid sod?”

Bodie’s handsome face screwed up into an expression of disbelief, “Don’t go fuckin’ me around anymore, Doyle. You know very well that after that kid gettin’ shot, I was a wild man. I needed you so bad that I was more than rough. I never even gave you a chance to say, ‘No’. I just took you. That’s what I mean you IQ deprived golli.”

Suddenly, Doyle smiled. A gesture that caused Bodie’s heart to drop - - either from total lust or from total fear, he wasn’t sure which. “Bodie, you are the biggest dolt in the western hemisphere. Now listen to me, you-did-not-rape-me. I needed you in me as much as you needed to take me. Do you think that you were the only individual who was upset by that kid bein’ shot? I needed to let off steam as well, and I wanted you in me. Believe me when I tell you that if you had really tried to rape me, I would have stopped you, and you would have been pickin’ up your teeth.”

For a moment Bodie hesitated then a small twinkle entered his eyes as he questioned, “You sure you’re capable of that? After all you’ve reminded me a couple of times that you’re almost 40, and, of course, I’m quite a bit younger.”

Fortunately, Doyle recognized this bravado for what it was, and replied in kind, “You’re only a year or so behind me, and quite frankly, I think that’s the real reason you’re plannin’ to leave in a month, you just can’t hack it anymore.”

“Can’t hack it? Not on your best day will I stand for that.” In the next second, Bodie had Doyle in his arms and was giving his mouth-to-mouth resuscitation in the form of the most mind blowing kiss that he had ever delivered. Doyle’s first reaction had been to fight back, but that lasted for only a few seconds when his slightly fogged-up thinking cleared sufficiently. 

The embrace continued until both men had to come up for air. Foreheads together, Doyle once again took the initiative by saying, “You really mean it? You do love me? I thought you couldn’t love ‘cause of your past?”

“I guess you’re the first person that I cared enough about to overcome my reluctance. From the age of 14, I fought love and caring, but you’re such a sexy little golli that I couldn’t stand against you. I guess that’s why it hurt so much when I thought you were mockin’ me. I kept hearin’ that old bastard’s words in my ear, ‘It isn’t about love; it’s about sex, sides who would love you? It’s your arse that’s interestin’, not you. I’m sorry, Ray. I really am.”

“How come you could tell that to Balliol and not me?”

“’Cause I’m an ignoramus; that’s why. When Balliol asked me, I guess I had an epiphany about what a jerk I was bein’. Without you in my life, I’m nothin’, but I figured I had messed up our relationship so badly that you’d never want anything to do with me, and then when you said that we’d only be partners for the next four months, and not even friends, I knew I had destroyed the best thing in my life.”

Doyle smiled intimately up at the man he had loved for six years, and whispered, “And here all this time, I thought I had asked too much of you to join with me in a civil partnership. I thought you cared so little for me that it was easier for you to run than to stick around after I had crossed the line. What a berk I was. We don’t have to be lovers for us to love each other. That’s what partners share, isn’t it - - trust and love? That’s what enables a partnership to survive. Thank you, Bodie, for being my partner. This has been the best six years of my life, being with you, but I can’t expect you to stick around just to keep the partnership goin’, that would be asking too much.”

Now it was Bodie’s turn to look confused with a face full of anxiety. “What the hell are you talkin’ about? You want me to leave?’

“Of course, I do, if that’s what you want. I’ve got at least six months more with the mob, but I don’t want you feelin’ like you got to stick around to guard my back or anything. Charles recommended a great security firm that I’m going to contact in the near future. That way I’ll have a job waitin’ for me for later. I’m sure the Cow will give me a letter of recommendation. I’m sure he’ll do the same for you. What security firm did Balliol tell you about?”

Bodie was so shaken that for a moment, hearing the name, Charles spoken so affectionately. He knew that he didn’t have any right to be jealous of Bradley but for a moment he couldn’t understand what Doyle was talking about, finally, however, he pulled himself together and replied, “Rafferty and Johnson.”

“Rafferty and Johnson,” but that’s who Charles recommended to me, and so did Cowley. The two men stood staring at each other for several seconds and then they broke out laughing. Doyle’s chipped tooth suddenly appeared as he smiled shyly at Bodie, “Me thinks there is a game afoot, and some machinations going on.”

“Well, I guess all three men were in MI so they probably have deviousness in their DNA, but I want to get back to what we’re going to do with our future.”

“Our future? Do you want there to be an ‘our future’?”

Bodie’s deep blue eyes looked frustrated, scared, insecure and belligerent all at the same time, “Of course, I want there to be a future with both of us in it. Why do you suppose I told you that I loved you? I notice, however, that you haven’t said the same thing.”

The hurt in Bodie’s voice tore at Doyle’s heart, but he knew he had to remain strong and resolved. He had walked into the lure of Bodie’s personality and charm too many times to allow himself to be taken in again so quickly. After all Bodie’s words still rankled in Doyle’s severely wounded heart. “Bodie, we’ve been partners for a long time and then for a very short time these past few months. I would have sworn I knew you, but obviously I didn’t. I will admit that my fantasies about our future are what caused this whole fiasco and break-up; you now have told me that you thought I was mocking you because of your roughness. Those words hurt a lot. Partners have to trust each other absolutely; lovers have to love absolutely. I never believed that saying, ‘Love is never having to say you’re sorry.’ In my opinion, if you can’t say you’re sorry to the one that you love, then it’s not much of a true love. I understand what they were trying to say, but if you truly loved me, then why did you avoid me for over a month? You refused to answer my message or talk on the phone and why did it take Peter Balliol to get you to have this ‘epiphany’ that you had?”

“I’ve never had much love in my life; I guess I don’t really know how to handle it, but I want to try with you. I know that now.”

“I believe you, but I also know that there are going to be some rough times ahead. You have one month left in your contract; I have six months in mine. I think that gives us some time to work on what we want for our future. A job working for men like Rafferty and Johnson would give us a real leg forward to maybe going further, but is that what you really want? Is that what I really want? We need to think about it.”

“I know I want to stay your partner until you leave the streets. I go nearly haywire, thinking about you being with a moron like Farrell.”

“All right, I understand that, but you were quite willing to leave me behind until just recently.” Doyle’s exquisite green eyes stared frankly into the troubled blue ones; then Doyle seemed to make a decision, a decision laden with implications for their future. “Bodie, do you trust me?”

Bodie frowned as if this was the most moronic question ever asked, “Of course, I do. Haven’t I trusted you with my life on the streets for the last six years?”

“I don’t mean that kind of trust - - the trust of one partner for another partner in a work situation. I mean the trust of one lover for another? I still think I was asking too much of you when I basically asked for commitment from you. That’s basically what my asking you to marry me was, you know? I wanted your reassurance that you would commit to me, but I don’t think you’re ready for that. What do you think?”

Now Bodie’s handsome face was filled with pain and uncertainty. He seemed to hesitate and then asked, “Does this mean that you’re giving me the push?”

Doyle dropped his head then raised his chin so that he could look into the midnight blue eyes he adored. “I think we have to be honest with each other. I can’t force you to declare yourself to me forever. I think we make excellent work partners, great friends, but I’m not sure we should become lovers. We weren’t lovers before because it was only about sex, but quite frankly, I know I need more than that. Do you need more, Bodie? If you are content with us just having a 1001 nights of sex when we need release, then, yes, I think you should leave when your contract ends in one month. If, on the other hand, you say that you love me, and you want us to become true lovers, then I think that we have a future that we can build upon.”

“So you’re putting it all on my shoulders, are you? You haven’t even said you love me so how do I know how you feel?”

A sad look of despair entered the green eyes, but Doyle made the effort for a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Bodie, I’m going to leave now. We’ve got one month before you leave. I want you to think hard about what you want from your future. If you want me to tell you I love you, all right, here it is. I love you enough to let you go, if that’s what will make you happy. Don’t use my safety as your reason for making a decision. Think about what you really want. Good-bye, Bodie. I love you.” With those words, Doyle walked out of Bodie’s flat.


	12. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

Bodie was forever grateful to Doyle for persuading him to wait and think about what he really wanted in his life, for his future. It was now three months after that fateful conversation, and Bodie’s going away party was that evening. Doyle and he continued to work well, but the writing was on the wall. Bodie made an appointment to meet with Rafferty and Johnson and was immediately impressed with the workings of their security business. It was highly recommended by all and the two middle-aged men were even more impressive. Upon meeting the two men, the possibility of going into security suddenly became a reality, especially when Bodie heard the salary that the two men were offering. They were even willing to wait for three months to be able to add one of “Cowley’s men” to their list of personnel.

It was agreed that Bodie would stay on for two months beyond his contract so that he could continue to work the streets with Doyle, and then he would become a civilian. Doyle, on the other hand, would stay three additional months until his contract was up. He would, however, leave the streets and concentrate on a program for teaching the newer recruits all the valuable things that he had learned the hard way, on the streets of London. A new breed of agent was coming along, but they badly needed the guidance of someone who had seen and done it all. Cowley had realized that he was losing Bodie, but this was a way of, at least, keeping Doyle in the fold until his contract had expired.

They had talked about how their partnership would change in the remaining three months of Bodie’s tenure. They had even managed to find some of their old friendship and reinforce that friendship with a different type of expectation from being friends. Bodie considered himself lucky that he had friends who wanted to give him a going away party. He suspected that Doyle was the moving force behind it, but he had only seen Ray off and on during the past three months on a social basis. Doyle had seemed especially busy in the evenings, and so Bodie had had to put up with brief conversations and discussions while on duty. Now Bodie’s duty was over. He had completed his last shift, he had attended the going away party and collected some really strange gifts, and he had fallen in love.

WAP Bodie didn’t believe in love at first sight, but it was true - - that feeling gob-smacked him in the face when he walked into the pub where the party was being held. He had never seen anyone more gorgeous in all his life. He was practically drooling by the time he had talked to everyone who wanted to congratulate him. Thus it had taken him several minutes to gain the side of the luscious creature who lit up the whole room. The party was a bit of a daze after that with lots of drinking and loads of food, but Bodie’s focus was on one person and one person only.

Since Bodie had never been in love before, he felt willing to just hang around and breathe in the heady essence of his love, and even though he was the man the party of was, most of his former fellow agents seemed content to let the ex-merc stay in the background. Fearful of messing up the whole situation, Bodie hung back until later in the evening when everyone seemed a bit tipsy, Cowley had left, and the exquisite body which radiated sex seemed more amenable to the Bodie charisma. Making his move, WAP Bodie poured on all the charm. The leather-clad figure seemed to pulsate with sensual aroma and bedroom eyes. Finally, Bodie could stand it no more, and decided to go for it. 

Unfortunately, the leather god reminded Bodie that he was the guest of honour and it wouldn’t quite do to have Bodie fucked through the floor by one of the guests. Seeing reason finally after his heart seemed to crash through his chest, Bodie backed off a bit, but continued to hang around the alluring figure until all the guests had left . . . all had left except the glorious leather god. Once again Bodie broached the subject that was most prevalent in his mind . . . getting this angel in his bed.

After a minute’s banter, Bodie seemed to be gaining the upper hand when all of a sudden his stomach began to feel less than calm. The queasiness increased and within seconds, Bodie was running for the loo. When Bodie finally felt better, he returned to the main room only to find the glorious body gone. Bodie knew that it would look bad for the landlord to see a grown man cry so he said goodnight and left.

He had already moved to his new flat since he was no longer on CI5’s payroll. He was extremely upset by his behaviour that night. What would Ray say? After all, Ray and the rest of the squad had paid for the party, and now Bodie had gone and ruined it by behaving like a drunk having to barf up his soul. Bodie still wasn’t quite familiar with the new flat so he turned on more lights than necessary, but he quickly turned them off again since the extra lighting stunned him and reminded him of the rip roaring headache that he was suffering from. Barely able to remove his clothing, he headed towards his bedroom, but stopped in the doorway because of the occupant of the bed. Smiling his broadest, Bodie felt his heart lift as he saw the splendid naked body sprawled out for all to see. The man was blatantly caressing himself as he ran his pink tongue back and forth over his cupid’s bow lips. His green eyes were so luminous that Bodie felt as if he didn’t even need to turn on a light; the beautiful eyes were lighting the way to paradise.

“Get ‘em off, mate.”

For a moment Bodie was confused; after all, the wiring in his head was totally saturated in 100 proof booze. Then he realized what the angel was saying and took a look at himself. He had one shoe and one sock off; his tie (somehow) was still around his neck but his shirt was half off, and his pants were hanging around his knees (no wonder he had trouble walking), while his prim white underclothing protected the family jewels . . . but only for a moment, if the licentious, lascivious look in the green orbs meant anything.

Bodie continued to stare at the golden body that was luring him to his doom. Suddenly, he shook himself as if he were regaining consciousness then he shook his head and said, “No, that’s not what I want.”

Doyle sat up in surprise; his face showing his dismay and his confusion. Hurt radiated from the glorious body, but Bodie refused to move forward. “What’s the matter, Bodie? What did I do wrong?”

Bodie’s eyes hardened slightly as he queried, “Am I your mate?”

Now Doyle’s confusion grew, “Of course, you are. You know that: you’re everything to me. These last three months have been pretty special. I thought we’d become friends again. Was I wrong?”

“No, you aren’t wrong. We have become friends but considering that we’ve done nothing more than that; what’s all this? Why are you flauntin’ yourself now when you haven’t wanted me or sex for almost the last five months?”

“You’re a civilian now; you won’t be violatin’ Cowley’s rules anymore.”

“Yes, but you will be.”

“But only for three months. Thought this is what you wanted?”

“No, what I want is to love you. I want to be with you and make love to you; not have another 1000 one-night stands like we used to. I promise, Ray. I’ve realized how important you are to me, and I want us to be together, but not like this. Do you understand?”

Doyle pulled the cover up over his naked body. “Yeah, I guess I’ve made a fool of myself . . . again. Sorry, mate. Thought me like this was something that you’d appreciate, guess I was wrong.”

Bodie moved forward to stand over the bed, looking at the body hunched under the covers. “Ray, you are the biggest moron. Of course, I want you like you are, but I want you to get it through your head that I’ve learned my lesson. I almost lost you ‘cause I thought I could only do sex, and with you . . . well, with you, I want so much more. You’re the only person I do want more with. Can’t you understand that?”

“Of course, I can, but what if I’m not able to give you what you need? We’ve never actually made love before. We’ve always had great sex, but it’s always been ‘cause you or I needed it, not because we had a serious commitment to make love or anything. Is it asking too much for us to make love and think that we can put together a serious relationship? I want us to be together for a long time, but neither of us have a great track record when it comes to commitment. Is that what you really want?”

“Haven’t you been listenin’? I want you. I love you, and I hope you’ll join me at Rafferty and Johnson in three months, but even if you don’t, I want to be with you, stay around you and make love to you. Can you live with that?”

“Come here, and I’ll show you how much I can live with that.”

For a moment Bodie hesitated then he came forward and allowed Doyle to take Bodie’s hips into his hands. Doyle leaned forward and pressed his perfect nose against Bodie’s groin, taking a deep breath of Bodie’s essence. Suddenly, Bodie’s manhood sprang into life as Bodie ran his hands through the auburn hair and caressed the curls that he was so fond of. Doyle could turn him on faster than anyone ever had, but if they kept this up, Bodie would forget his need to be sure that Doyle understood how important it was for them to completely understand what their future would involve.

Doyle was using his tongue to wet the underwear which covered his cock, forcing Bodie to endure a strange kind of pain that only Doyle seemed to engender now days in Bodie. About to beg Doyle to stop, Bodie caught his breath as Doyle lowered the underwear to expose the reddish-purple erection which seemed to be begging for attention. Doyle studied the organ carefully and then took it into his mouth. For several moments he drove Bodie wild with the feelings and sensations coming from that talented tongue. In the months before the break-up, Bodie had wanted sex and fellatio was definitely an activity that both men enjoyed, but now as Bodie looked down at the head covered in fat, auburn curls, he realized that it was usually Doyle giving head. It was always Doyle now that he was honest with himself. No wonder Doyle wanted more from their relationship. No wonder that Doyle had been thinking towards other activities. Ashamed of how selfish he had been in their previous time together. Bodie suddenly realized that it was easy to say you loved a person and wanted to be with them, but if Bodie decided to commit to Doyle, they would have to talk over their priorities and decide how they would share their love. It wasn’t fair for Doyle to do all the work and Bodie all the enjoyment.

Bodie’s thoughts were interrupted by a feeling of tightness as orgasm overcame him. Semen erupted down Doyle’s throat, which he drank thirstily. Although they had done this before, it had never been so sweet. Doyle’s enthusiasm was catching and as soon as Bodie recovered his senses he reached between his lover’s legs and started to caress Doyle’s cock, but he quickly noticed that it was flaccid and hardly interested in anymore activities.

“What? You aren’t interested?”

Doyle laughed that incredibly sexy laugh that he kept for enticing Bodie. “Look again, you sexy devil, just drinkin’ you down made me come, I’ve sprayed all over you and me. Now I’m going to have to take another shower.”

“No, I’ll go clean up and bring something for you, too. I need to talk to you before I get so sleepy that I’m not fit to talk.”

Throwing off the remainder of his clothes, Bodie walked to the loo, his magnificent bum on glorious display. Doyle followed his every move, but his face reflected his concern over what words Bodie was about to speak. Within minutes, Bodie was back with a fresh wash cloth and towel. He carefully cleaned the quivering Doyle body, being especially tender around the sensitive tip of Doyle’s cock. After finishing, he tucked Doyle into bed, smiled a bit sadly and then returned the wet things to the loo.  
Shutting off the light, he returned to the bed and climbed in near to Doyle but not touching.

Turning on his left side so he could see the slender body and Doyle’s anxious face in the small bit of moonlight coming through the not quite closed curtains, Bodie studied Doyle carefully before he spoke.

“Ray, what’s the matter? I know I upset you with just seeming to want sex, and then walkin’ out on you, ignoring you, and hurting you, but for the last three months, you’ve set the parameters and I’ve agreed to them. Now, suddenly, you hop into my bed and want sex again? What’s going on? I want you desperately, but I thought we’d start making love and being together, especially now that we’ve both got fairly good schedules. Instead, I haven’t seen you after work these last three months, and then I get ready to leave the mob and you come across like a house afire. I need to know what you want, love. Do you want us to be together all the time? Have you been with someone else these last few months, and you’re afraid to tell me, please Ray, I know I hurt you bad, but you got to tell me. I can live with . . . almost anything, but not knowing.”

Doyle’s green eyes filled with moisture and something else . . . an emotion that was almost impossible to read. Perhaps, Ray was getting ready to tell him that their future wasn’t a future at all.

Doyle’s voice came out extremely hoarse and strained, “I . . . I met an old friend a few months ago. We knew each other in art school, and I just ran into him by accident.”

Bodie’s heart began to beat harder. He tried to stare at Doyle without showing his fears about what Doyle’s next words would be, but his tongue seemed to have dried up in his mouth and had become so large that he wasn’t sure he could have said anything at all so he waited.

“Well, we got to talking. He’s still into art, and he’s got a great studio where he does a lot of his work. Well, the truth is . . . I’ve been going to his studio most nights after work. I’m sorry, Bodie. I just . . . well, I just had to see . . .”

Doyle suddenly stopped as he realized that Bodie’s body had stiffened all over and the man’s body had turned rigid and cold. Doyle looked at his lover carefully and saw the hurt and anger in the depth of his blue eyes. Puzzled, Doyle drew back and blurted out, “I’m sorry, Bodie. I should have told you, but in case it didn’t work out, I really didn’t want you to know.”

Now Bodie’s anger was red hot but more at himself than Doyle. After all, they hadn’t been together two months ago; he didn’t have any claims on Doyle’s love life, but just the thought of Doyle with another man made bile rise in his throat. It had been bad enough when he had found out about Charles Bradley, but now he had to compete with some artist?

“Bodie, what’s the matter? I didn’t think you’d react like this. After all, it’s not that bad.”

Bodie tried to control his anger, but the words were out before he could control them. Of course, you have the right to see whoever you want. After all, I gave up that right when I walked out on you all those months ago, but I also don’t appreciate you flaunting Bradley and now this guy in front of me. I’m not going to be your filler, Doyle when you can’t get someone else.”

Bodie could almost see Doyle’s back bristle up like a cat does when threatened and angry. Doyle’s eyes practically glowed green; his auburn hair seemed to flame red, and his hands clenched into fists. The cupid’s bow mouth was ready to burst forth with flaming words when suddenly he hesitated and looked strangely into Bodie’s anxious face.

“Do you know that you are the biggest ignoramus in the UK? I am not havin’ an affair with Samuel Reynolds. He’s letting me use his studio so that I can practice me painting and drawing. It’s got perfect lighting. I got to thinking about what I was going to do after I left CI5 in three months, and I decided to give my hand a go at art work again. I know we’ve got plans to both work for Rafferty and Johnson, but I thought I’d see if I had any talent for art . . . you know as sort of a fall back position. After all, I might not be right for security work, and you wouldn’t want to work with anyone who was just adequate to the job, so when Sammy mentioned that his studio was available, I decided to try it. THAT’S where I’ve been most every evening for the last two months, you moron.”

Bodie’s face fell as he realized the gaffe he had made. “I’m sorry, sunshine. I guess I’m more jealous than I knew. After all, you’re a free man, and I have no right to be jealous of anything you do. I’m really sorry.”

Doyle seemed to cool his anger a bit as he nodded. “I guess I can live with a bit of jealousy as long as I know that you understand there is no justification for any of it.”   
Doyle continued to look at Bodie then remembered his other words, “And before you say anything, I am not going to keep justifying my relationship with Charles Bradley; we were both lonely for the men we loved and we turned to each other for comfort. It was nothing more than that. Now can we drop the subject?”

Bodie smiled shyly, thankful that Doyle wasn’t going to read him the riot act. “Charles Bradley was a lucky man, being with you and Balliol, just so he doesn’t get you two mixed up; we’ll be okay.”

Doyle smiled and drew the ex-merc to his side. “How ‘bout we put off any more discussion until morning? I’ll set the alarm so we can get up early and talk about our plans before you go off on your new adventure, and I report for my first day as a trainer.”

The two men cuddled together and kissed several times. It was clear that Bodie was making a real effort to correct some of the mistakes that he had made with their earlier relationship, but both men knew that there were still several obstacles that faced them. Entwined in each other’s arms and legs, they were both drifting off to sleep with Doyle suddenly opened his eyes and sat straight up in bed and being a master at multi-tasking, shouted out at the same time, “Damn!”

Bodie opened one sleepy blue eye and questioned in a slightly sarcastic tone, “Something wrong, pet?”

Doyle turned and looked at the dark haired man who looked totally debauched and replied with the typical Doyle sarcasm, “Of course, there’s something wrong, you great lump. I forgot to give you your retirement pressie.”

“Hmm, you got me a pressie? I thought those were all given out at me party?”

“This one is a personal one that I’m giving to my partner. Didn’t want anyone else to see it.”

“That was nice of you, but did you really have to wake us up at this hour, just to remind me you forgot?”

Doyle stared at the primordial ooze that was lying there trying to get back to sleep and decided that two could play at this game. Smirking at his most evil, Doyle turned away from his bed partner and said quietly, “Okay, sorry, I’ll give it to you tomorrow . . . or sometime, I guess.”

The lump, going by the name of Bodie, laid there for a few minutes then a blue eye opened again and said in a vague, sleepy voice, Whatta ya mean, you might give it to me sometime? It’s me pressie, isn’t it?”

“Well, I was going to give it to you, but it only works as a retirement pressie tonight, doesn’t it? After all you’ve got a whole new job waiting for you tomorrow.”

Bodie’s handsome face scrunched up into a frown at that thinking then said, “But it’s already after midnight so that argument is superfluous or something. Let’s be havin’ it right now.”

Doyle smiled brilliantly, “I always love how you seem to get more Irish when you are greedy for something. Suddenly Doyle fell over on his side and began looking under the bed. Since the cover fell off the glorious naked body, Bodie began to drool as the unveiling revealed the finest set of cheeks in the British Isles. Bodie wanted to grab the glorious sight but knew that that might put the end to his chances to get his pressie, so he controlled himself. Within seconds Doyle had the pressie up on the bed. It was very big but it looked much like a picture frame but since it was wrapped, Bodie wasn’t for sure. 

Doyle held onto the package for a few seconds then handed it over. No respecter of carefully wrapped objects, of which this was NOT, Bodie had the exterior wrapped ripped off within seconds. Inside was a framed drawing of Bodie standing with his hip canted in a seductive pose with Doyle standing beside him, his arm wrapped around the ex-merc’s shoulders. The look that the two men shared spoke volumes. It was uncanny how Doyle had captured the love and affection the two men shared.

Bodie was speechless. His eyes filled with moisture and his throat felt as if he had swallowed his Adam’s apple. He blinked several times then finally found his voice and whispered, “Oh Angelfish, thank you. When did you do this?”

Doyle’s face saddened, “I did it and some other things at Sammy’s place. Didn’t want anyone else seein’ it, in case it didn’t turn out so well.”

“It’s beautiful and you’re beautiful. I’m sorry I thought you were sneakin’ out on me or had found a bird or something. You do have a lot of talent. Give us a kiss.”

Doyle complied immediately and they held the embrace until both men ran out of breath. Then Doyle backed away, his green orbs glistening with moisture. “I thought I’d try something showing us first. I want to give something like it to Peter and Charles for a gift, but I didn’t know if I had the talent to even try something like this. I love you, Bodie. Hopefully I can do another one in oil so we can hang it in our flat one of these days.”

Bodie’s quirky left eyebrow shot up as he studied Doyle for a few seconds, “And is there going to be a flat for us one of these days?”

Doyle’s face immediately took on a greenish tinged look as if he thought maybe he had jumped the gun in trying to talk about a future with Bodie. Was Bodie still commitment shy? Stammering Doyle tried to convey his thoughts, “I . . . I . . . just thought maybe you and I could live together, you know after awhile.”

“Sounds like you got plans for us to have a two-up, two-down cosy little nest. What’s Cowley going to think of that?”

Suddenly Doyle face turned to relief as he sputtered out, “Oh, I didn’t mean while I was still working for CI5; no, I meant in three months or so . . . you know when we’re both civilians. I heard that Rafferty and Johnson were very liberal in their thinking . . . and I just thought they wouldn’t mind - - that is if I get a job with them.” Doyle’s last few thoughts were spoken rather lamely as he looked into Bodie’s face which was filled with consternation. Doyle immediately assumed that Bodie didn’t care for his ex-partner making plans that could possibly reveal their relationship, and certainly getting a flat together would be like putting a sign out for all to see.

Doyle moved to the side of the bed, his back to Bodie, a picture of sheer dejection. Bodie studied the gorgeous back of his friend, reading the cause of Doyle’s despair. Inching across the bed, Bodie carefully put his arms around the thin body and began nuzzling the enticing neck. His lips began to move up and down Doyle’s hair and ears. When Doyle’s stiffness did not end, Bodie took more desperate measures, he began to lightly caress Doyle’s nipples and lick down the delectable spine while maintaining his hold on the slightly squirming body.

Finally, after a few minutes, Doyle was responding quite nicely when Bodie stopped all his lovemaking and turned his lovable golli around and looked him right in the eye, “Now what’s this about us waiting to set up housekeepin’ together in three months? I’m a civilian now, and I bloody well can have livin’ with me and sleepin’ with me anybody I want, and you’re the one I want RIGHT NOW.”

“But I’m not a civilian yet, and I don’t think the Cow would take it too well if his new trainer suddenly started flauntin’ livin’ with someone else, especially if he was a six foot, dark, handsome, gorgeous hunk. That’s why I suggested . . .”

Doyle’s observation was cut off by two lips covering his own and a tongue demanding entrance to his own mouth. For the next several minutes, both men were occupied were a series of kisses and caresses which occupied on their time, but finally they broke apart as Bodie leaned back against the back of the bed and then pulled Doyle into his arms. Already heady with Doyle’s scent and warmth, Bodie felt like he was drifting on a waft of pure heaven, but he knew his Doyle very well and knew that he would have to reassure him or his golli would continue to cogitate their future and ruin what was left of the night.

“Doyle, me son, do you honestly think I would leave CI5 if I didn’t have the living arrangements all worked out in advance? I have talked to Father and convinced him that we would be saving him the rental on a whole flat if he would allow his brand new trainer to live with a former agent who is so highly regarded that the mere mention of his name puts fear in the hearts of the villains and who enjoys the obvious admiration of all his peers.”

Doyle’s handsome face turned to pure confusion as he turned so that his face was crushed up against Bodie’s chest and with the greatest cheek he could muster said, “And who would that be that you’re describing?”

Immediately, Bodie began to tickle his wiggling comrade, “YOU know very well, I meant me.” Suddenly, Bodie stopped tickling Doyle because he remembered that he was the one who was very vulnerable to tickling and Doyle could make his life miserable. Looking hesitantly into Doyle’s face, Bodie saw the love shining there and the slight gleam which told of Doyle’s plans to get his revenge, but instead Doyle’s mouth opened into a humongous yawn. Waiting for Doyle to stop yawning, he pulled the slender body towards him again and said, “Whatta ya think of that?”

“You mean you want us to live together right away? But what if it doesn’t work out, don’t you think it would be better to wait until I’m a civilian too? Who knows if I’ll even make the grade with Rafferty and Johnson? We might fight all the time . . . mmmmm.” All of Doyle’s protests were once again stopped by a breathtaking kiss as the two men cuddled down in each other’s arms.

They relaxed against each other and sleep began to overcome them when Bodie opened one eye and asked, “Are you going to live with me, mate?”

“Guess so. I guess we can try it for three months and see what happens.”

“Three months, that’s what you think, sunshine. That will be the courtship and then if you’re a good boy we might find us tryin’ out that civil partnership law, whatta think of that?”

For several seconds Doyle said nothing and Bodie thought he might have gone to sleep when suddenly he heard a faint whisper, “If that’s me proposal, you’re goin’ to have to do better than that. Is it asking too much for a little romance when my fella asks me to tie the knot?”

Doyle missed the look of relief on Bodie’s face but he didn’t miss the bone-crushing hug he received which promised a great deal more to come before they did indeed tie the knot.

The End


End file.
